I felt almost cheerful the next morning when Louise came to wake me, and found myself humming quietly as I went through my morning routine.

  The ointment had done its job, turning the bruises around my neck into a collection of indistinct purple-green blobs. Louise raised an eyebrow at the sight, but kindly didn’t comment. At least they didn’t look like handprints any more.

  I was just finishing up breakfast in my drawing room when Cael strolled in, whistling happily. A bath, a good night’s sleep, and a change of clothes had done him wonders as well.

  He dropped into the seat across the small table from me, and immediately stole a scone and several rashers of bacon off my plate. “Morning, Princess.”

  “… Please. Help yourself.” I rolled my eyes and quickly grabbed the last scone before he could steal that one too. “Don’t tell me your own breakfast wasn’t big enough.”

  “Course it was. Was delicious too. This?” He held up one of the rashers with an huge grin. “This is because I can.”

  My heart ached, the feeling oddly bittersweet. It was such a simple, little act of rebellion, but to him, I could tell it meant the world. It felt nice to know he felt safe enough to tease me like that.

  I was just grateful he didn’t try to ruffle my hair as well. I’d probably have let him, but the damned updo had taken Louise over half an hour. And a second maid.

  Apparently, Louise had taken my ongoing series of accidents as a personal failure on her part. In an effort to better shield me from the cruel horrors of the world, she’d approached my daily grooming with the same level of focus as a general preparing for a decisive battle.

  She’d put my hair up in a series of complex braids, pinned in place with a beautiful set of crystal snowflakes I’d picked up a few weeks ago. My makeup was light and shimmery, matching the pale grey silk jacket and vest. Diamond earrings dangled from my ears, and a matching diamond brooch pinned my high collar closed. I looked like a snow spirit out of a fairytale.

  I didn’t have it in me to protest as Cael reached over and stole my coffee cup as well – smirking the whole time. “We got plans for today? Or this your lying around the house look?”

  “Hardly,” I drawled, smearing a bit of butter on my scone and taking a bite. The sweet-tart flavour of haskap berries and almonds melted on my tongue. “We have work to do.”

  He sipped my coffee. “You thinking of looking for that boat? Know some people who might be able to help. For the right price, anyways.”

  ”No. By now, it’s likely long gone or sitting at the bottom of the river. Unless we stumble over it, the Watch will have an easier time finding it than the two of us.” Although those contacts of his might prove useful in other ways. I tucked the information away, just in case. “We have an appointment with the Investigators in charge. They want my statement, and I want to see what they’ve managed to collect thus far.”

  He looked at me doubtfully. “And you think they’re just gonna show you cause you ask nicely?”

  “Tempest petitioned his Majesty to allow us access. We are officially aiding with the investigation.” My brother really did think of every angle. I should have thought of it myself if I hadn’t been so busy passing out.

  “Sounds like a long day. You sure you don’t wanna rest today too?”

  I shrugged, finishing off my scone. “I’ve had a good night’s sleep, a double dose of medicine, and I have another two doses in my saddlebags. Today should be less stressful than yesterday, but if I feel unwell, I’ll call a stop.” I couldn’t just lie around while potential leads grew colder. I would manage.

  “Like hell.” Cael jabbed his scone in my direction, littering the tablecloth with crumbs. “You don’t know when to quit. I’ll call it a day, and you’ll godsdamned listen. Got it, Princess?” He jabbed the scone at me again for emphasis.

  I scoffed. “I’ll be fine. I—”

  “Nope,” he said, giving me a flat stare. “Looked up that ‘retainer’ thing. Means I gotta take care of you. So that’s what I’m doing.”

  “But—”

  ”Princess.”

  “… Fine.” I sighed in surrender. “You win.”

  “Damn straight,” he said with a self-satisfied grin.

  I stole back my coffee and drained the last dregs of it as I rose. “Most lords wouldn’t let you bully them like this.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Most lords aren’t giant softies who rescue their kidnappers. Now get your fancy ass moving — we’re burning daylight with this shit.”

  ———————

  Fresh snow sparkled in the bright winter sun, crunching beneath our horses’ hooves. Their puffed breaths hung like soft clouds in the freezing cold air.

  I huddled miserably in Giselle’s saddle, my heavy fur cloak wrapped around me.I ’d always hated being cold. First snowfall, and I’d crank the heat in our car to max and left it there until spring. Els had loved teasing me about it — that a big guy like I’d been was so damn sensitive.

  Thank the gods for the angry footman who’d forced the damn cloak into my arms on my way out the door. Not that I was going to argue with him: according to Louise, he’d once picked a fight with an angry half-orc merc. And won.

  My new guards trailed behind us, close enough to keep an eye on me, but just out of earshot. They’d introduced themselves only as Cecil and Sam — a small man with suspicious eyes, and a large woman who carried more swords than I carried knives. I wasn’t certain where Tempest had found them, but their cool competence made it pretty obvious that they didn’t usually get relegated to guarding hapless third sons.

  As we left the noble quarter near the palace, the streets grew busier, filling with horses and cabs and delivery carts. The sidewalks thronged with people. I slowed Giselle as a pack of children darted through the pedestrians and ran across my path, chased by a harried looking woman. She looked up at me in surprise as she ran past.

  Cael glanced at me and grinned.

  “… What?”

  “It’s nothing. Just — anyone ever tell you you you’re weird?”

  I narrowed my eyes. “… Your tone suggests that’s a compliment, but the words don’t feel like one.”

  “You keep surprising me, is all.” He shrugged. “You stopped for a pack of brats.”

  ”As opposed to what? Running them over?”

  He chuckled lightly and nudged his horse into motion.

  I’d been training with Giselle ever since I woke up here. Even with her gentle nature, it was only recently that I’d become completely comfortable riding her in this kind of unpredictable traffic.

  At Ser Sara’s insistence, I’d begun training with the Knighthood’s riding instructor too. I was making good progress – all those years riding a motorcycle had left me with at least a few transferable skills. I had nothing on Cael though. His calm competence with the House gelding he was on made me wonder if ‘horse thief’ also numbered among his criminal exploits.

  “Everyone in the low city knows you stay the fuck outta nobs’ way. Basic survival skill. Most of ‘em, worst they’ll do is swear at you, like they own the damned street. But sometimes…” his face fell. “There are stories. Everyone’s heard of someone who wasn’t so lucky. Safer this way.”

  “… I’m sorry,” I said softly. It felt like he had a story or two of his own.

  “Not your fault, Princess. Point is, most nobs don’t keep an eye out for a bunch of dumb kids. Except that you did.”

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  I smiled sadly. “I think you’re giving me too much credit. Six months ago, I was exactly that kind of noble.”

  He looked over at me doubtfully. “No way you were that bad.”

  “I think I really was.”

  It was strange. The lines between Past-Violet and Me-Violet had begun to blur a bit in my mind. I knew I wasn’t that person and had never actually been that person, but I still felt for those who Past-Violet might have hurt.

  Giselle whuffed softly and turned her head to look at me, like she was checking that I was alright. My damned horse was far too sensitive to my moods.

  I petted her soft, velvety neck to reassure her. “I’m fine,” I cooed. “Everything’s fine. Good girl.”

  Her ears perked up and her look turned hopeful, startling a small laugh out of me. She was also a brazen suck up. “You can have an apple later,” I promised.

  Cael chuckled and tossed me his trademark roguish grin. “You’re such fucking softy. Guess I’m lucky I met this version.”

  His grin was infectious, and I couldn’t help grinning back.

  —————————

  It was a short ride to the City Watch’s main Yard, halfway up King’s Road where it met Fountain Road and formed a tiny plaza. The complex was a hive of activity day or night. I’d been here a few times before on one of Wren’s errands.

  The central station building was older than most of the city. It had been a gatepost before the city’s last major expansion, and an army barracks before that. The solid stone walls were pocked with age, along with occasional scars and scorch marks; souvenirs of Illestria’s less peaceful times.

  As we turned into the front courtyard, a stablehand ran out to take our horses. I dismounted and searched through my coin purse for a suitable tip.

  I’d finally memorized all the various denominations, but the relative values of things was still tripping me up. Judging by the girl’s slightly stunned expression as I handed the small coin to her, I’d managed to go overboard. Again.

  I sighed as I handed the stammering girl Giselle’s reins, and led my merry band up the front steps. As I pushed the front doors open, the station’s typical controlled chaos washed over me. It was a surprisingly comforting sound — no matter what world I was in or what life I was living, the charged bustle of a police station was always the same.

  I stepped inside, the sudden gust of winter air making those nearby complain loudly.

  A man turned, likely to bitch at me, only to turn grey and stutter to a stop as he caught sight of me. He took a half step back, heedlessly bumping into more people. Their conversations faltered and died as they turned to see what was going on. The pool rippled outwards as more and more people turned to look for the source of the disruption, until the entire front hall was smothered by a heavy silence.

  It was a stark reminder of just how deep the class divisions in Illestria could cut. No one thought twice about a woman serving as a Watchman or a man who chose to be his family’s homemaker, but a high noble like me setting foot in a place as emotionally charged as a Watch station… everyone was just waiting for the explosion. It was a brave and foolhardy commoner who dared stand up to a noble.

  Dressed as I was, I should have expected it — intellectually, I had. But on the heels of Cael’s earlier remarks, it hit me like a blow to the gut. When I’d been here before, I’d just been Wren’s well-dressed apprentice — a little out of place, unusual enough to draw a few stares, but nothing remarkable. Now, I was trouble waiting to happen.

  People seemed to melt out of my way as I made my way to the front desk. The click of our heels against the scarred wooden floors was loud in the uncomfortable silence.

  “Lo– Earl Southsea to see Inspectors Locke and Asher,” I announced to the wide-eyed young constable manning the desk. I would have to get used to having an actual title. “I have an appointment.”

  I winced as he shot up, his chair legs screeching against the floor. “Yes sir! Milord! I… uhm…”

  “I’m sorry, I’m a bit early. We can wait if the inspectors aren’t ready for me yet.”

  I didn’t think it was possible, but his eyes somehow grew even wider at my polite smile. They flickered frantically around the lobby as if he were debating which was worse: surprising his superiors with an unexpected Earl, or asking said Earl and his retinue to wait with the common masses while those same superiors took their sweet time taking me off his hands.

  After a few panicky moments, he seemed to come to the conclusion I was above his pay grade. He pasted on a queasy smile and bowed to me. “No, that’s fine. Please, if you’ll follow me, your Earlship.”

  He quickly motioned one of his co-workers to take over for him, then waved us past the counter and through the guarded door behind it.

  I looked around with a sense of professional curiosity. Wren’s errands had only ever taken me as far as the front desk, so this was unexplored territory.

  The layout looked similar to the precincts I was familiar with from my past life. One hallway appeared to lead back to the cells, another to the stables. There was assumably locker rooms of some sort down here, along with a well-guarded armoury. All the offices and interview rooms were likely upstairs.

  The corporal led us up a nearby staircase, skipping the second floor and heading up to the third.

  As I climbed the final few steps, a wave of nostalgia and homesickness swept over me. I was standing at the edge of a bullpen, desks crammed haphazardly into the open space. Uniformed Watchmen moved between them with purpose, the sound of hushed conversations blending with heavy footsteps and the rustling of paperwork. The air smelled of old coffee, stale sweat, and not enough sleep.

  It felt so familiar — so right — that for one painfully sharp moment I was back home, in my precinct, my old life. I half expected Els to come barrelling around a corner, asking me where the fuck I’d been.

  Then it was gone, and I was standing dumbly at the top of the stairs, blinking away tears and in everyone’s way.

  Cael nudged me with his elbow. “Y’ok there, Princess?” He asked quietly.

  “Yes,” I replied, a little too quickly, as I wiped away a stray tear with my sleeve. “It’s nothing important.”

  He didn’t look like he believed me, but he let the matter drop.

  Our nervous constable led us past the bullpen to a small waiting area stuffed into an awkward corner. He stayed just long enough for us to make ourselves comfortable, fidgeting the entire time, then fled like I was going to chase him and hunt him down.

  Even up here, I could feel people staring as we waited. I wasn’t surprised — nobles rarely visited a Watch station, they summoned the Watch, and expected to be attended to.

  Cael was right. I really was a weirdo.

  Without warning, a nearby door slammed open, bouncing off the wall behind it and nearly clipping the tall, thin man in a stained, oversized coat who barged through.

  “Dunno why I bother wi’ ye!” He snapped waspishly back through the door. “Come ‘ere out’ve the kindness ‘f me ‘eart, an’ this’s th’ thanks ye give me?!” He huffed, pulling himself taller and wrapping his worn coat around himself like a royal robe.

  I stood up, staring at the man.

  I knew that coat. The big leathery one that looked like demented bat wings when he gestured. I knew that whine too — just this side of weasel with a sinus infection.

  “… Wren?”

  The man spun, his surly glower melting into a smile as he spotted me. “Brat! Did’nae think I’d run inte ye. What’re ye doin’ ‘ere?”

  “… You’re okay.”

  Tempest had told me Wren was fine, but I hadn’t completely believed him until this moment. My memories of the attack were still too vivid.

  He snorted, hobbling over to us. “‘Course I am. Ye did’nae think I were that old an’ feeble, did ye? Takes more’n a scuffle like tha’ te take me out.”

  Wren looked rough. His face was haggard, a patchwork of red scratches and white bandages. More grubby bandages wrapped his hands and peeked out from beneath his shirt.

  But at least he was alive and upright.

  I smiled unsteadily. “Of course you are.”

  “Don’t ye start wi’ me too!” He sniffed angrily and poked me in the chest. “I’m gettin’ ‘nough grief from th’other two idjits. Don’ need ye pilin’ in.”

  “You’re right.” I bowed deeply. “I’m sorry.”

  “… What’re ye doin’, Brat? Stop tha’. … People’re starin’…” he added in a low voice.

  “I’m sorry you were dragged into my mess. It was my problem to deal with, and I’ll cover any damages. I’ll understand if you don’t want to continue my apprenticeship.”

  It would hurt, though — my job at Wren’s had given me direction. If I lost it…

  I swallowed nervously at the thought. My sanity was frayed enough as it was.

  He sighed. “None’e tha’ nonsense, Brat. Ye did good, followin’ me orders. ‘M jest glad ye made it out safe. Y’ad me worried.” He patted my shoulder affectionately as I straightened. “An’ ye’ll work off th’ repairs soon ‘nough.”

  He was still a pain in the ass, too.

  Behind me, Cael snickered. He’d taken the opportunity to stretch his legs out on my chair, lounging insouciantly across the entire row of seats. “This is the guy you work for, Princess? Fuck. Can see why that chick wasn’t impressed.”

  Wren bristled. “Watch it, ye mouthy little punk,” he snapped, his whine gearing up into an even sharper register. “I’ll tell ye, I’m th’best damned private investigator ‘n the bloody kingdom! Brat’s lucky I’m willin’ te train ‘im! Who’d ye think y’are?!”

  “Wren, this is my new retainer, Cael Mattis. Cael, this is Wren, my…”

  Hells. He definitely didn’t qualify as my ‘master,’ and employer implied I actually got paid for my work…

  “… Mentor.”

  “”Mentor?!’ That’s th’best ye got fer me?” He slumped. “N’after all I do fer ye? An’ ye’ll expect me te deal with th’ snotty little punk too—”

  “I covered for you with Miss Veronica,” I cut him off.

  He opened his mouth to argue, but withered under my pointed stare. “… Fine.” He harrumphed. “Th’ punk can stay. But e’s—”

  “Wren. Why are you still here?” A tired voice interrupted. “I thought I told you to Go Away. We’ve got the commander breathing down our necks, a mountain of evidence to process, and now some asshole Earl thinks he can tell me how to run my damned investigation. We Do Not have time to deal with you right now.”

  A heavy hand fell on Wren’s shoulder and spun him, revealing an exhausted, disheveled looking blonde in a Watch uniform. She’d shoved several chewed-up cheap pens into her bun. One of them appeared to be leaking.

  Her eyes went wide as she spotted me.

  I waved with a little smile.

  “Milord! You’re here.” She pasted on a brittle smile. “Early. And no one told me.” Her eye twitched. “And you’re talking to Wren.”

  Heads were going to roll if she had her way.

  “Locke!” A smooth voice echoed across the bullpen. A slim Black man rushed up the stairs and stormed towards us, looking through a pile of papers in his arms. “The front desk sent word that Earl Dusk was early. Is the interview room prepped? And please tell me you’ve gotten rid of Wren. We can’t afford him causing a scene in front of his Lordship.”

  Inspector Locke laughed humourlessly, not looking away from me. “Not yet!” She called back, her voice loud in the breathless quiet of the bullpen. Maybe Wren’s was the head that was going to roll.

  I didn’t have to look around to know we had everyone’s attention. I’d never met an officer who didn’t like a bit of street theatre at someone else’s expense.

  Inspector Asher’s eyes shot up, visibly filling with horror as he beheld the scene.

  Wren puffed himself up proudly. “Brat, m’ex-apprentices, Urchin an’ Lout,” he announced, pointing at the two horrified inspectors. “Idjits, thisere’s Earl Brat. Yer replacement.”

  Cael burst into howling laughter.