Chapter 7: The Knights’ Code

EGORAVEN: HEIR OF THE FIRST UNICORN - The Novelization adaptation of the comic series - Content warning: Adult situations and Fantasy violence. Reader Discretion is advised

The wooden sign for The Silver Pig creaked as it swung slightly, the warm glow from the windows seeming brighter with the growing dusk. The pub was Desmond’s favorite, as it was for many of the teachers at the sorcery college. It was busy yet quiet, a perfect place to drink, eat, and study without worrying about being interrupted by drunk ruffians or overly-rambunctious conversations. There were no bards singing raunchy songs or busty barmaids dancing on tables to the catcalls of lust-frenzied patrons. And best of all, everyone there kept to themselves. It was everything a reticent sorcerer and his unicorn companion could want in a place.

A small meal was ordered, less of an actual meal and more of a selection of plates with various aromatic pickled vegetables, cheeses, and breads. But the centerpiece of the pub was its large selection of ales, wines, and meads from throughout Ternam. On special occasions, libations from the kingdoms beyond would be available, and depending on how much of the stock was even had, available only to a select group of patrons, of which Desmond Treemont was proudly one.

“Segal says this brew is from a rare batch from the kingdom of Santolaria in the south. A fruity bouquet with an undertone of anise,” He breathed in the scent of the golden liquid, then took a small sip. Smacking his lips, he savored the taste. “Ah—and just the right hint of citrus. Obviously brewed in the summer after a very robust winter.”

Egoraven smiled politely as she took a sip from her own tiny glass, not finding anything special with the drink but especially not enamored with the smell of anise, much less the taste of it. It was bad enough pushing past the alcohol, but considering what she had put the poor sorcerer through, she wasn’t going to be rude. Glad that at least the sample was small, she finished her drink and then chased the taste with a vinegar-drowned gherkin. It was not much of an improvement.

Sitting quietly, she continued to poke at the food, allowing Desmond to continue his almost rapturous study of the beverage. Satisfied, he cleaned his palate with some sardines on olive-oil-coated bread, then moved on to his mug of more common ale.

“You’re healing up well, a lot faster than I can,” Egoraven said between bites of her miniature sandwich. “You look very young for someone who knew my mother that long ago.”

Desmond chuckled. “I guess having magic has its perks, youthfulness blessedly being one of them. But you don’t need to flatter me. Although after twenty-some years since, I appreciate the compliment.” He took another bite. “So, you didn’t know your mother was human?”

“Well, I know I am half-human, but I didn’t know how,” she shrugged. “I just assumed the magic of the Valley did it. Mother—Hannah— would tell me stories of the human world, but not much. It made her very sad, so I didn’t ask further. My father never mentioned it either, although he did keep telling me she was different. He just didn’t explain why. I never connected that she knew so much about humans because she was once human herself.” Egoraven let out a sigh. “I figured it was because of me that Lilith kept calling my mother and myself abominations. I didn’t think she meant both of us.”

Desmond raised his brow. “Lilith?”

“My step-mare.”

He reached for the mug as concern crossed his face. “Step-mare? As in step-mother?” He hesitated with his questioning. “What happened to Hannah?”

Egoraven swished her tail and sadly glanced away. “She was sick for a while—” She gave a hard swallow. “That truly made her different from the other unicorns. My father found her. We don’t know what happened.”

Feeling his heart drop, Desmond drank more to control his emotions. “I’m sorry—my skill just wasn’t strong enough at the time,” he whispered, forcing back the tears that clouded his vision and made speaking difficult. An awkward pause came between them.

“I should have realized she wasn’t what I always thought she was.” Egoraven quickly wiped her eyes.

Desmond took in a deep breath, composing himself. “She was your mother, and I know she loved you and your father very much. That’s all you need to know.”

They shared sympathetic smiles. Egoraven suddenly gave Desmond a look that he found hard to place. “Then what does that make you?”

“I beg your pardon?” He felt his face heat up.

The unicorn leaned closer. “If it weren’t for you, I would not be here. You’re as much a father to me as Alaric.”

Desmond was sure his face was now as red as he felt hot. “I wouldn’t go that far,” he stammered, grabbing his drink again. “I only worked the spell that made it possible.”

“Well, something happened in that magic.” She looked at him with growing excitement. “My mother had fiery red hair and emerald-green eyes. My father is black as the deepest midnight with eyes as blue as the calmest sky. But here I am, looking at you and realizing we both have the same mousy brown hair and eyes.”

Desmond’s mind reeled at the implication. No—it wasn’t an implication. Here was this unicorn girl sitting before him, as one-of-a-kind as her mother—who he turned into a unicorn with his magic long ago. As he looked Egoraven over with her pale skin and brown hair, he realized what she said was impossible for him to argue. But could magic actually do that? Could this odd woman before him technically be his daughter because the magic declared it so? But then again, no one had ever turned a girl into a unicorn, either.

Egoraven continued staring at him with wide eyes and an even wider smile, waiting for his answer as her ears were perked fully forward and the tip of her tail wagged. Even if he wanted to believe magic doesn’t work that way, she certainly wanted to believe that anything was possible.

Magic, do as you will.

“I wouldn’t call it mousy,” Desmond answered awkwardly. “I’d call it a modest golden hazel.”

They both laughed and returned to their eating. Twisting in his chair towards the bar, Desmond raised his fingers. “Segal, I’ll have another ale—make that two.”

The bartender nodded and waved back, grabbing the clay mugs from under the counter.

“I’m not thirsty,” Egoraven commented, especially since she still had an almost full mug beside her to finish.

Desmond turned back, his cheeks rosy as he lowered his eyes. “They’re for me,” he sheepishly answered, combing his fingers through his hair.

The unicorn and the sorcerer stayed in the pub until late, eating, drinking, and catching up with each other’s lives. Egoraven was especially enamored with the stories of her mother, and it was apparent in how he spoke that Desmond still loved her after all these years. Almost the last ones to leave, Egoraven went to honor her promise of paying the bill, but Desmond refused, saying that ultimately, the honor was all his—although next time, he would absolutely expect her to cover the tab. Knowing they both had early starts in the morning, they made their separate ways—Desmond to his dormitory and Egoraven back to the castle.

As she walked, Egoraven contemplated everything. What started as interference from a random human became a vital link to her past in the mortal realm. She still couldn’t believe it—meeting the very sorcerer who turned a human girl into the unicorn who would become her mother. Maybe that’s why the Valley didn’t call to her as it did everyone else—not because of any magic or lack thereof, but because she really didn’t belong in Edinrahn. Was her life always meant to lead here?

The guards were ambivalent about the unicorn walking through the highly protected gates, not paying any attention to her as she made her way to the far wing where the higher-ranking tournament guests stayed. Crickets chirped as she crossed the courtyard. What excitement she felt at discovering who Desmond was drifted into darker thoughts. If Edinrahn was not her home, then where was she supposed to be? It was as if one piece fitting made the rest of the puzzle fall apart.

Was she meant to be a knight? Consort to a baroness? A king’s champion? Suddenly, nothing she was doing made sense. If she genuinely accepted Desmond as her other father, was she meant to be with him? And if so, as what? She didn’t see herself as a sorcerer’s apprentice. A teacher at the college? How could she possibly teach anything to young sorcerers when her own magic was uncontrolled and insolent, even without the cursed talisman around her neck? She frowned at the thought of the sapling of enchantment inside her that refused to grow in any meaningful way.

Why are you dormant? What are you waiting for?

 Egoraven bitterly huffed as she walked through walkways dimly lit with flickering torches. Cerrik was right about one thing—the palace, indeed, was immense. Thinking of Cerrik made her think of the bothersome lady. What if she had never met Alexandria?

Then you wouldn’t have met Orchid, she thought, feeling a fluttering in her belly. My beautiful, frustrating Orchid…  Egoraven’s lips pursed into a tight smile, but it wasn’t a happy one. Every attempt at repeating that intimate moment by the stream was deliberately thwarted by Alexandria or by Orchid herself. She didn’t understand. Why did Orchid fight her advances while simultaneously accepting them?

But then what if she hadn’t met Orchid?

“I would still be in Doornham with my blacksmith,” she said out loud without thinking. Egoraven stopped short, almost tripping herself, a gasp escaping at realizing her words. My blacksmith? What an odd thing to say. Egoraven stood silently, her hands over her now racing heart. She remembered what Orchid had told her—that she would have been happier had she stayed at The Coal Horse with her uncle and surrounded by friends, not chasing a ridiculous idea for the benefit of elves that didn’t want her anyway. But what of the dragons? What of the unicorns? How could she forget her father Alaric being held prisoner? Her brother Blackavar? She was doing this for them, too. How could she dare think she would have been happier if she did nothing while her kin suffered?

Egoraven clutched the sides of her head. Even though things were going well, something was wrong, and she couldn’t place her finger on it. All she knew was that what she thought she had to do and what needed to happen were two different things. And she no longer knew which was which.

“I need sleep,” Egoraven growled as her temples throbbed. “That’s it. I had a very long day, and I need sleep.” She took several deep breaths, trying to calm herself, going so far as to blame the alcohol from dinner. The talisman must have affected her usually high tolerance of the drinks. Maybe she was drunk and didn’t know it. Giving herself an assured nod, she marched towards the guest apartments through one of the inner gardens.

Crossing the threshold into the foyer, Egoraven let out a loud sigh, desperate to get to her room and into bed. Glad for the plush carpet that muffled the sound of her hooves on the marble, she reached the grand staircase. After a few steps, she realized she wasn’t alone in what she thought was an empty hall. Catching the familiar sight of scarlet and gold ocher, a smile crossed her lips until Egoraven noticed Orchid was speaking to someone. Hoping it was only a client finishing up, Egoraven did not rush. But as she reached the top of the stairs, the pleasant tingling at the thought of spending some final moments with Orchid before bed exploded into a hot rush of rage.

“Quite an impressive show you put on at tournament, I might say.” Rillian’s gaze entirely focused on Egoraven, slightly distorted by the shimmering glamour only she could see.

Orchid turned her head with a look of surprise. “Egoraven, I thought you were upstairs sleeping.” Evidently, she thought she stood next to the distinguished Robert Mayfair of the Highwater Providence of Penbronte and not a treacherous elf determined to stalk Egoraven around every corner.

Egoraven snarled. “What are you doing here?” Her ears pinned, and her tail lashed.

Getting the response he wanted, Rillian let out the fake, grating laugh of his apparition, then daintily clutched his collar with equally fake offense. “My dear, you really should do something about that rude behavior of yours. It is quite unbecoming.”

Fury at his presence paralyzed the unicorn, and all she could do was clutch the staircase's balustrade. If Orchid weren’t there, Egoraven would have finished the prince once and for all. Instead, she forced herself to put up with the charade.

“Well, I guess my welcome has officially come to an end. I best make my way,” he cooed.

“So soon?” Orchid purred back.

Rillian made a show of taking her hand. “There will be other times, my sweet Orchid.” He planted a loud kiss on her knuckles, glancing at Egoraven, who almost trembled at the sight.

“I will walk you downstairs,” Orchid answered, waving her closed fan.

“No, you will not!” Egoraven’s voice echoed through the foyer. “I forbid you to go with him!”

Taken aback, Orchid glared at Egoraven with a sharply arched brow. “I’m sorry—?” It was not an apology but rather a demand for an explanation. “You… forbid me? You must be mistaken.” Instead of raising her voice, Orchid angrily popped open her fan and flicked it like an agitated hummingbird. Egoraven stepped back and pressed her mouth into a tight line so as not to say anything. Orchid gestured to Sir Mayfair towards the stairs, and he opened his arm to let her go first as a proper gentleman should. As she walked down the steps in a vision of calm, her fan continued the flutter with the indignation she channeled to it.

Rillian turned and grinned at Egoraven. “Obviously, someone has forgotten their place.” He showed off a tiny folded note sealed with wax, bringing particular attention to his middle finger. He was going to solicit the scarlet unicorn in front of her and silently dared Egoraven to do something about it. Egoraven bared her teeth but didn’t move. Instead, she watched from the balcony and seethed as Orchid and Rillian met by the main doors one last time.

They spoke briefly, and then the note passed into sun-kissed hands that the courtesan tucked into her bodice. Then, the final insult—a lingering kiss on perfectly painted, full lips. Egoraven clenched her jaw, and her ears ached at how flat they lay against her head.

With a final goodbye, the distinguished Robert Mayfair left the building, and Orchid waited until he was gone. Snapping her fan closed like a trap, she gathered her dress and rushed back up the stairs. “What is the matter with you?” she loudly hissed.

“With me?” Egoraven cried back. “Why weren’t you at tournament? And what about him? What was he doing here? Why were you with him?”

Orchid reached the top of the stairs. “I didn’t think I was still at an age where I must report my whereabouts.” Her face was flushed red. “Who are you to tell me who I may or may not be with?”

Egoraven jabbed her finger in the direction of the main door. “I am not telling you to not be with anybody. I’m telling you not to be with him!”

“Will you keep your voice down?” Orchid’s voice cracked. “If you haven’t noticed, people are sleeping in this castle. And I will be with whomever I choose, including this man you seem to have such hatred for.” Clutching at her dress, she made her way down the corridor.

Egoraven stomped after her. “I have every right to hate him—!”

The fan loudly snapped open again, making Egoraven flinch. “Oh, pray tell! Please share it with the rest of us!”

The weight of the talisman felt heavier than usual. That’s right! I’m the only one who can see he’s an elf, Egoraven thought. She hesitated to answer.

Orchid let out an exasperated sigh. “Egoraven, it’s late. Go to bed.” She continued towards her door. Egoraven continued following but at a slower pace.

“I saw him give you a note—that note that men give you when—"

 “What of it, Egoraven?” Orchid turned to face her, defiant. “You know what I am. You know what I do. Every man has his needs.”

Egoraven shrank back. “As do I,” she whispered, averting her eyes. “Please, don’t be with him. Do this one favor for me.”

Orchid froze, the energy in her fan now beginning to show on her. It snapped shut. “Do not disguise your command as a plea.” She pointed an accusatory finger. “I have worked hard to be a woman free from being constantly told what to do and to be always answering to someone. Don’t think for a moment you will be the one to change that.”

In a blur, Egoraven jumped, keeping her from opening the door by pushing her aside and pinning her against the wall. Orchid gasped as furred arms boxed her in, and Egoraven bore into her with a determined stare. “I beg you. Do not—do not do this to me.”

Orchid squirmed at her sudden capture. “Egoraven, what has gotten into you?”

Egoraven pressed against her. “After all this time watching you from afar, the thought of Rillian having you… touching you… while my desire grows is just… unbearable…” Her nostrils flared, her breathing heavy and taking in the perfume from ebony hair. She leaned, nuzzling just under Orchid’s round ear, feeling goosebumps rise on her skin. “Rillian? Who’s that?” Egoraven heard Orchid whisper, but she was uninterested in answering. Instead, she caressed her face, brushing her lips against her cheek until she met those perfectly painted, full lips.

The two unicorns kissed, but not the same hesitant kiss from the stream. Their tongues rolled against each other, desperate and hungering. Orchid let out a small moan, which only made Egoraven’s kiss more possessive in return as she pushed Orchid further against the wall. With a gasp, they separated, but just enough for Egoraven to slide her tongue down the front of her throat, her hand meeting her breast through the bodice. Orchid let out another groan as she felt her tongue meet the line of her cleavage. Egoraven flushed at the passion of the moment rising to uncontrollable levels as Orchid writhed at the worshipful yet jealous kissing.

“Egoraven…” Orchid gasped, her skin hot. Egoraven answered by finding the delta of her thighs through the voluminous dress, earning a cry. Egoraven straightened, their eyes meeting.

“Tell me you are mine,” Egoraven demanded, pressing her fingers further against the exact spot that made Orchid shiver. “Tell me,” she repeated.

With a deft flick of her wrist, the scarlet unicorn escaped from her grasp and took her hand instead. With a sly smile, Orchid led her under the petticoat, letting Egoraven feel the warmth she craved, placing her fingers where they slid easily.

Egoraven let out a groan as her mind went blank, her core clenching and pulsing furiously as Orchid guided her inside. The corridor went still.

With a little chuckle, Orchid brought Egoraven’s hand back, slick and glistening, then pulled her in for another deep, ravenous kiss. With awkward steps, they pawed at each other as they fumbled for the door. As it closed behind them, neither noticed they had been watched the entire time.

Alexandria released the breath she had been holding, tears stinging her eyes. With light steps and her shift rustling, she snuck through the corridor. With a delicate touch, she brushed her fingers where the two unicorns had been, imagining she could feel the heat of their bodies imprinted on the wall. Tucking her long blond hair behind her ears, she crept over and gently tried the knob. Finding it locked, she placed an ear against the door.

It was difficult to hear clearly, but what she heard was enough. Soft gasps and long moans interspersed with rustling followed by quiet moments. Then, with rhythmic creaking, the sounds of ecstasy grew louder and climbing.

Alexandria’s chest tightened as the ache between her legs became almost impossible to ignore. But her agony was much too great for her lust to overcome. As she caught the first cries of rapture, the lady jumped to her bare feet and ran.

Moonlight cast an eerie glow over the garden as Alexandria ran towards the solitude of the hedge maze. Tears grew cold against her cheeks, and her lungs burned. Running through the dark, she slowed and staggered until she finally dropped to her knees, letting out despondent sobs as she wept. “Why! Why does Orchid get your attention when I do everything for you!” she cried to no one. “You only know her because of me! I am the one who loves you, not her!” Dramatically throwing herself onto the ground, Alexandria continued crying. “…not her…” she whimpered into her arms.

“Now, is that the way a young woman should be behaving?”

Alexandria snapped her head up at the unexpected voice. Her heart racing, she quickly sat up, terrified. “Who is there?” she trembled, trying to compose herself. Squinting into the darkness, she made out a figure walking towards her, holding out his hand.

“Well? Or do you feel more comfortable on your hands and knees?”

Still not able to see him properly, she hesitantly took his palm. With a firm yet gentle grip, he helped her get back on her feet and then let go. The blue glare from the moonlight revealed a noble with ginger hair and a bushy mustache crowning an odd but polite smile. Alexandria realized she had seen the gentleman before but couldn’t place from where. As he stared back, everything screamed in her being to flee. “I… I must go…” Alexandria declared unconvincingly.

“Why?” the man asked as he approached her. “So, you can wallow in the rejection of that dirty little unicorn? You sacrifice yourself to a loveless marriage, and this is your reward? She runs off with your lady-in-waiting without even giving you a second glance?”

Alexandria gasped, feeling her face get hot. “It’s not like that—” she quietly muttered, clutching the front of her shift closed.

“Then how is it?” he continued, his tone turning mocking as he grabbed her arm, pulling the stunned lady closer. “What you need is someone to show you how it should be.”

Wincing at his grip, Alexandria’s eyes widened as a shimmering appeared around his face. What fear she felt suddenly was overwhelmed by curiosity at the dissolving radiance changing his face, revealing a younger yet harsher countenance framed by red-brown hair and a pair of ears ending in prominent points.

“You’re an elf!” Alexandria gasped in surprise.

Placing a finger to her lips, Rillian gave a predatory grin. “We all have our secrets to keep.” His hands caressed the sides of her face. “See? Isn’t that better?”

Alexandria tried to pull away, but his initially gentle cradling turned into a controlling grasp, keeping her in place. She tried to struggle as his nails dug into her cheeks, but her will melted just as quickly as a glow engulfed her sight. The shimmering glamor appeared, seeping from the elf prince’s hands onto her. Alexandria began to tremble as the magic did its work, but Rillian did not let go, his entire focus on the lady. As the trance settled, he watched her mouth fall agape and her blue eyes disappear into pools of black. Rillian gave out a satisfied hum as he felt all resistance vanish. “Much better,” he purred, taking the lady in a one-sided kiss. “Much better,” he repeated, the words rolling into a growl as he pulled Alexandria onto the ground to the sound of a linen shift ripping open.

* * *

The marble hall rumbled with the sounds of Raikashan chanting. The dragons lined up along the sides, weaving through the pillars surrounding a carved circle of ancient script crudely carved into the stone. A steel-gray dragon lay in the center of the giant sigil, hunched and kneeling while reciting with them, each one bare of the trappings of the mortal realm. With clawed hands and closed eyes, they prayed to their goddess, their glistening scales rippling over taut muscles. Chains rattling and deep, distressed moans rolled from one end, with none of the dragons acknowledging the ebony unicorn tied to the stone.

Once a long-abandoned chapel for remembering the ancestors of the elves of Edinrahn, it had been overtaken as a shrine to the great Miraon, the first dragon—the mother of all dragons and daughter of the moon goddess Leda. They continued their litany, bathed in the glow of torches and mists of incense and sulfur as the runes began to dance to their song. Bilakath’s voice rose as he lowered his hands to the sigils. The goddess was answering.

Alaric thrashed as far as the short chains would allow. His horn shimmered, followed by a glittering wave that traveled through and within his body. As he was engulfed, tendrils of light began to creep and stretch, flowing like serpents toward the circle. As they snaked closer, the runes began to grow with their own searching light, reaching out towards the unicorn until the magic met and entwined in an explosion of light.

The Raikashans did not waver from their casting. Bilakath trembled as the magic flowed to him, consuming the dragon as it did the unicorn. Their magic united, the iridescent cocoon flowed to the ceiling of the cavernous hall. Bilikath struggled to his feet, fighting the magic as much as he wanted to control it. With a roar, he summoned it to do his will.

A whirlwind twisted around the dragon, the tendrils pulling from the runes. Alaric battled to no avail, the spell draining him as it took hold. Feeling his body twisting and molding, Bilakath roared again, pain blinding him as much as magic. But he refused to falter and resumed the chanting. Stretching and changing, the shimmering tendrils pulled in all directions until they burst, turning everything white to the sounds of a unicorn shrieking.

The dragons stopped their chanting, shielding their eyes from the blazing flash. As the light faded, they stared in awe as a towering beast appeared through the swirling mist. Bilakath transformed into a dragon of steely scales and silver skin, coiling through the expanse of the hall, his wings crashing into columns that crumbled and scattered the acolytes below. Their king and their goddess in one, Miraon was back in the world—a world that would soon know their true power. Crawling with his new body, he let out a roar to the euphoric cries of the Raikashans.

The world of man has ended. Behold the rise of dragons.

* * *

Egoraven awoke with a jolt, shooting into a sitting position on the bed. Taking deep breaths, she tried to calm her racing heart. Her skin tingled uncomfortably as magic poured into her veins, the sapling thrashing ineffectively. The nightmare was real enough to not only wake her but send her magic into as much of a panic as the unicorn. Slowly opening her eyes, she shook her head, trying to rid herself of the disorientation that clung mercilessly. She searched for Johar on the servant’s cot, then Morgan, who usually slept on the far end of the bed with her until she remembered she was not in her room.

Suddenly aware of her nakedness, Egoraven brought her knees to her chest and hugged herself in a misplaced sense of modesty. Looking around the darkened space, memories from earlier flashed—the feel of sun-kissed skin against hers, the touch of perfectly manicured hands on her body, the sharing of hot breaths, and moans of pleasure, especially those from perfectly painted full lips. As much bliss as she felt in the moment, those memories did not comfort her. Egoraven did not have to look beside her to know she was the only one there. Running her tail on the disheveled, empty space on the bed, it was unmistakable that Orchid had been gone for a while, most likely leaving once Egoraven had fallen asleep. The blackened window set the time as still well before sunrise. Letting out a sigh, Egoraven knew that Orchid would not return to the room until morning.

* * *

The black and grey unicorn stallion jumped to his feet. Shaking himself vigorously, he flared his nostrils to study the air. The scent of dragons that seemed so vivid was nowhere to be found in the sprawling gardens of the royal palace. Relieved, Amadaeo snorted and tossed his mane, hearing a small thump beside him.

“Curse this thing,” he muttered. The cord around his neck had come undone, and the talisman had dropped onto the grass. “If it wasn’t for this, I could have known for sure if it was a dream or a vision.” He shuddered again and shook his head. There was no point in feeling despondent for Alaric if there was nothing he could do, but his heart felt heavy just the same. Even without the Pull, he was more than ready to return home, dragons be damned.

Trying not to relish too much not wearing the draining stone, he reached down, giving an involuntary sneer at how the charm’s magic vibrated between his teeth. “I’d better get someone to tie this wretched thing back on me,” he grumbled. He thought about heading toward the kitchens, where the scullery maids would be awake and working by now. Taking a few steps, Amadaeo decided against it, remembering how they seemed to be incredibly skittish of his presence, with several always bursting into tears at the sight of him. He truly did not intend to frighten the poor girls. “Maybe I can find one of those useless-looking guards,” he contemplated and turned in the opposite direction towards the central courtyard past the hedge maze.

The unicorn caught something in his peripheral vision as he made his way. He stopped to get a better look and saw what he thought was a nature spirit. She seemed to float as she walked, her golden hair trailing in wisps and her gown translucent in the moonlight. He resisted the urge to spit out the talisman as he stepped closer in curiosity. She continued walking in the garden, oblivious to her surroundings, especially the unicorn. Amadaeo decided to take more determined steps toward her.

“My lady—” Amadaeo spoke around the stone, surprised at seeing Alexandria out in the garden at such a time, but as he looked her over, he became even more concerned. Her wispy hair was messy and stuck with leaves, while her torn and soiled gown barely clung to her body. It didn’t take magic to smell the blood soaked into the linen. However, it did take the bit that the amulet couldn’t block for him to know a particular scent about her, specific to unwed young maidens, was no longer there. “My lady? Are you all right?” He nuzzled her, finally getting her attention. “Alexandria? Has someone… hurt you?”

Alexandria turned slowly, making eye contact with the unicorn but looking through him as if he was also not there. “Why no, quite the opposite,’ she answered with a dreamy tone. Her face lowered as she saw the dangling cords from his mouth. “Oh, Master unicorn, have you dropped your charm?”

Amadaeo nodded, unsure how to read the situation. “Oh—oh yes. Yes, I have. I was just looking for someone to tie it back on me.”

“Let me help you,” she answered, her usually chirpy way of speaking now languorous. Amadaeo released the stone, feeling it drop and settle on the cord. She tied it around his neck, taking her time caressing his coat and letting out odd moans as she ran his fingers through his mane and breathed in the smell of lavender. The talisman long tied, she continued running her fingers towards his horn, managing to steal a touch as she worked down his muzzle. Amadaeo had never felt so uncomfortable.

“You are so beautiful with all your magic…” Alexandria spoke with whispering, trailing words. “Your life with the elves must be exquisite…” Turning on the tips of her toes, she drifted back to where she had been aimlessly walking.

“Elves?” Amadaeo stood and watched, bewildered at her behavior and even more so at what he should do.

* * *

Crashing lances exploded to the cheers of the crowd. As the herald waved the end of the contest, the bay destrier was urged to the waiting crew. Morgan took Warking’s reins as Johar took the broken lance. Egoraven removed her helm, revealing the exasperated look on her sweat-soaked face.

“But you won the round,” Morgan replied, baffled at her lack of enthusiasm as she dismounted with all her movements projecting tension and frustration.

“Thanks to the defaults, I can kiss tournament champion goodbye,” Egoraven grumbled as they returned to camp.

“At least you still have a chance to win some ground contests,” Johar added. “You apparently needed the scare to remind you of your concentration.”

The unicorn grunted. Not only did she feel it pointless to argue with the horse man and the fox, but she didn’t want to admit that she was more focused now that both Orchid and Alexandria were not in the stands. Orchid being gone, she could understand, even though she resented the disappearance even more so since last night. Alexandria’s empty seat was a different matter that worried her but didn’t show it. Since when did the lady not show up for the jousts? Weren’t they her favorite? Egoraven remembered Alexandria’s father complaining about her running off all the time. Maybe today was one of those days. Cerrik didn’t seem too concerned, still in attendance beside the two empty seats, but Egoraven wasn’t doing any of this to impress him anyway.

The only thing she indeed was grateful for was that neither Rillian nor his ridiculous avatar was anywhere to be seen. Relief was tempered with suspicion, however. At least in the stands, Egoraven knew precisely where he was at most times. If Rillian wasn’t there, then where was he? There was no telling what the elf prince could be up to on his own.

They began to settle in at their tent, in no rush but still concentrating on getting the weapons and armor checked and ready for later. It would be a while before the next individual contest, as the rest of the afternoon would be taken up by a dramatic recreation of a grand melee from the long past that put the current royal bloodline in power.

Amadaeo stayed by his niece’s side as she worked cleaning her armor. They both noticed each other acting strangely and more reserved than usual. They stayed silent. Neither wanted to be the first to ask what was wrong, and they especially didn’t want to reveal yet to each other why.

There was a buzz of commotion as knights and squires separated to make way for a contingent of guards coming through. These were not the usual guards scattered throughout the grounds. Instead, they were wearing the royal crest and colors, even followed by a bannerman. Only the King’s Riders were higher than the Royal Guard, but to be summoned by either meant being summoned by his majesty. And they went directly to a red-striped tent where a unicorn girl sat.

“The unicorns are to come with us by order of his royal highness,” the captain announced sternly.

Egoraven lifted herself from her seat and looked at Johar and Morgan, who shrugged, and to Amadaeo, who was just as puzzled as she was. Deciding it was best to do what they were told, the unicorns silently followed the guards under the gazes of everyone they passed.

King Jason sat on his throne on a dais overlooking the hall. This room was not the main throne room where the masses were met. This was a smaller, more intimate space, even for being still quite large. Several gentlemen of distinguished lineage and rank dotted the sides next to the dais, apparently more captains and advisors. Egoraven felt her insides tighten as dread rushed through her. No good could possibly come of this.

“I require some explanation regarding your kingdom.” King Jason’s voice echoed and sent a chill down Egoraven’s spine.

“My kingdom, sire?”

He leaned on his throne, already annoyed at having to repeat himself. “Are you not from the kingdom of Edinrahn? Do you not fly under its banner?”

Egoraven nervously swished her tail, resisting the urge to wring her hands. “Yes, we are—we do—”

“What news have you heard from Edinrahn, if I may be so bold to ask?” Amadaeo interrupted.

King Jason’s grey brow raised, still not used to having a unicorn itself addressing him, especially in the tone of an equal. “Do you not keep in contact with your stewards?”

Amadaeo lowered his horn in deference. “Unicorns have yet to master the art of the writing, my lord.” Egoraven eyes shot open wide as she sucked in her breath at her uncle’s pert answer. Under reversed circumstances, he would have scolded her for speaking that way.

“What he means to say is that we do not—we have not heard anything,” she stammered, trying to mitigate any offense.

The elder monarch leaned back, pinching his chin with his fingers, contemplating the unicorns before him. The silence in the hall was deafening. “You are not who you claim you are,” he finally answered.

“My lord?” Egoraven gasped.

One of the captains stepped onto the dais, handing King Jason several parchments he looked over. Egoraven immediately recognized him as the captain who had met Lady Alexandria’s entourage when they first came to Varcyn. The one who supervised the priests as they placed the draining stones around her neck. The captain, who had spent an excessive amount of time speaking to Sir Cerrik. She tried to remember his name.

“We have come in possession letters signed and sealed by King Bilakath Oronar of the Raikashans and by Prince Rillian Cirdan of the Eihdans of Edinrahn,” Captain Gibson declared.

“How long have the unicorns been in league with the Dragon Lords?” The king interjected.

Egoraven’s stomach dropped, and she began to get dizzy. “Your majesty, the unicorns have no such pact with the Dragon Lords, and I did not rescind my throne. It is because of them that my uncle and I are so far from home right now.”

“Then who rules as your proxy?”

“We have no one, your grace,” Amadaeo answered. “Our king Alaric is a prisoner of the dragons, and the elves have entered into a pact with them at our expense. The rest of the herd will not act without their king.”

“I cannot return to Edinrahn as long as the dragons are in control,” Egoraven blurted.

More men rushed to join their monarch, whispering furiously between each other and then turning their attention back to them.

“So, you admit to abandoning your lands then? Your castle? Your birthright?”

Egoraven and Amadaeo shuffled, both growing concerned at the turn of the conversation. “She has not abandoned anything,” Amadaeo argued. “We just cannot return.”

 There was another uncomfortable silence as King Jason sat back again, obviously unsatisfied with everything he heard.

“Then let me make you understand this.” The words came out ominously. “An heir that refuses to fight for their kingdom forfeits their kingdom.”

“Your grace—?” The words fell out of Egoraven’s mouth.

“You are competing under the banner of Edinrahn, a banner that, by your own admission, you do not represent. And you are also not bound to the Barony of Dallyn despite claiming yourself their champion.”

She stepped forward, causing guards to lurch at her, weapons ready.  “Sire, I was chosen by the Lady Alexandria herself.”

“Which is meaningless without permission from the male head of her household,” King Jason interjected, expecting her to use that defense. “You have been competing in tournaments under false pretenses, and I am surprised that my very own constables have allowed you to come this far.”

“No, please—”

“Your name and ranking will be excised from the record books, and you are hereby banned from competing in any tournament in Ternam by penalty of incarceration. You will also surrender the equivalent worth of your ill-gotten honors, which I will have my accountants calculate and deliver to you before nightfall.”

Tasting copper in her mouth, Egoraven realized she had bitten her lip. “I shall deal with Lady Alexandria and her questionable decisions separately,” was the last thing she heard before a constant rushing in her ears muffled everything. Amadaeo turned her away from the king with a nudge and led her out of the hall. As they reached the corridor and the door closed behind them, Egoraven covered her face and choked back heavy sobs. The guards at the entrance watched without any reaction.

“I am truly sorry, child,” Amadaeo whispered.

She embraced his neck. “Uncle, you should try to go back to Edinrahn. We know I’m the one that can’t go back.”

Amadaeo leaned his head on her. “I swore to your father I would stay by your side, not that I needed to swear.”

Egoraven cried even harder. “Go to the others, at least,” she stammered. “Tell them what’s going on and gather what we must to pay the fine. Maybe we can convince them to let us keep Warking—" She stopped herself and wiped her face in frustration. “I need to be alone. Just for now.”

“Whatever you wish.” He nuzzled her one last time.

“Thank you, uncle.” With a final embrace, Egoraven and Amadaeo parted ways.

Egoraven didn’t know where she was going. All she knew was that she needed to get as far away as possible from the castle and the tournament grounds. Even though it seemed the entire city had come out for the events, the streets were still crowded with people going about their day. But no matter how far she went through the meandering alleyways and busy thoroughfares, she could not escape King Jason’s voice. He had decreed her a fraud. A fraud. She almost wanted to vomit.

After all that hard work, she was going to lose everything. Her chest tightened. All the work that Johar and Morgan had done would also be wasted. Not only would they be returning to Doornham with less than when they left, but they would be returning with a cloud of shame thanks to her. She felt more guilty about bringing that on her friends than anything happening to her. Then she let out an incredulous laugh. Here she was, a princess so inept she lost her kingdom twice.

The proclamation repeated in her head. The king said nothing about her having to leave Varcyn. Maybe she could spare The Coal Horse her embarrassment by not returning at all. Then she thought of the sorcerer. Maybe Desmond could take her in. Perhaps she could be his assistant at the school. Maybe one day, she could return and see Johar, Morgan, and Daniel again when the scandal had long blown over. She choked back a sob. Would they even want her back?

“What a shame about that disqualification, eh?”

Egoraven’s head snapped up and spun to where the voice had come from. Tucked in a narrow alleyway, staring directly at her, grinned the elf prince. Charging with an enraged cry, Egoraven rushed at Rillian, pinning him to the wall by his chest. He loudly grunted at the impact but kept his gaze and his smirk. He was willing to take the discomfort to enjoy the fruit of his work.

“I should have known you might have had something to do with that!”  Egoraven screamed, spittle spraying from her lips. “I should kill you right here! At least the dragons will thank me for the favor!” She clutched the front of his jerkin tighter. “Let me guess, the distinguished Robert Mayfair had an important message to deliver on behalf of his benefactors!”

Rillian didn’t try to push her off. “Easy there, Egoraven. Quite the winning streak you have.”

“You disgust me,” she hissed.

“The hate you have for me is but a fraction of the hate you have for yourself,” he replied. “And do you know why? It’s because you are going against your very nature.”

“And you would know what my nature is?” Egoraven tossed him back to the wall, letting go of his collar.

“You are the heir to the throne of Edinrahn, future queen of the Arisyan and the Eihdans.” Rillian straightened out his jacket. “And with the Raikashans about to be on the move, now is especially the time to return.”

“What are you talking about? The Pull will keep them in,” Egoraven snapped.

He let out a laugh. “While you were running around playing knight, I was actually keeping contact.” He circled his finger for emphasis.

The unicorn took note of his paler skin and the dark circles under his eyes. “Speaking of the Pull, you’re not looking too fresh-faced yourself. Maybe I should stay in Varcyn longer to test your limits.”

“Only you do not have a reason to stay in Varcyn anymore, remember?” He let out a snort. “Your friends will want to return to their homes now that there’s no tournament to hold them here. Although now that the king knows about dragons at their doorstep, I wonder how they’ll feel about still having you around. And you certainly can’t return with your queer little baroness. Her father will be thrilled to hear what your disgrace has brought to his house. And let’s not even mention the embarrassment her infatuation with you has brought to her husband-to-be.” He dramatically paced, counting out each point. He then raised a finger, pretending to realize something important. “Hmmm—and what about your courtesan? Oh yes—what need of you will she have? You have no lands, no wealth of any measure, and certainly no reputation. Whores are so fickle—"

Of all the things Rillian was expecting, the punch still took him by surprise. Tasting copper in his mouth along with a loosened tooth, he staggered before regaining his footing. Egoraven watched him, wanting to continue pummeling him until he reached the end of his immortal life in that alley, but instead, she breathed heavily through gritted teeth and kept her hand.

“Aren’t you at least curious about how the dragons are leaving the valley despite the Pull? Isn’t that what Alaric was protecting you from?” He spat out a bloody glob, knowing the tooth would be next.

“He thought I would be a source of power for them,” she answered.

“Tsk. Even the Raikashans don’t need you,” Rillian mocked. “I know what they’re doing—who they are using. Maybe Alaric finally saw the error of his ways. Or maybe even your brother Blackavar. Even you spoke about how powerful he will be.”

Bile burned the back of Egoraven’s throat. “Never! Alaric and Blackavar would never give in to the Raikashans!” She readied to hit him again.

“Why not? Lilith did,” the elf answered, taking a jump back.

The unicorn squared her back, standing over Rillian. He braced himself against the wall, breathing heavily with his blood-streaked face swelling, worsening his already tired features. She allowed herself a little grin. His glamour certainly won’t help him heal any faster. “If anyone doesn’t need anyone, it’s me needing you!” She spat in his face, then stomped towards the street.

“Maybe,” Rillian growled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “But I wouldn’t take me up on your little challenge.” He yelled at her. “Do you hear me? You have absolutely no idea.”

Egoraven heard every word but ignored him. Fuming at the elf prince, she continued her aimless walking, this time her furious mood catching the attention of onlookers, forcing them to make wide berths as she passed. It didn’t matter that she was once a centerpiece of entertainment for them in the arena. No one wanted to be near an especially angry unicorn.

Finding herself near the ports and wrinkling her nose at the smell of brine and rotting fish, Egoraven stopped. “I’m only postponing the inevitable,” she muttered to herself. “I should get back. I’m the one that should face the auditors. I shouldn’t leave Johar and Morgan to deal with that.” Her throat tightened at the guilt of it.  This was not their fault. It was not fair to let them take the brunt of her punishment.

Then, the anger bubbled up again. Punishment for what? She felt her brows furrow at the thought. For being cast out because dragons overtook my kingdom with the help of a wretched prince I keep stopping myself from killing? How dare a mortal human deign to think he can decree away my birthright. King Jason should be joining me against the dragons, not pretending my claim to my throne doesn’t exist.

No—she had to fight this somehow.

The more her thoughts raced, the less she paid attention to where she was going. Turning a corner, she walked into the middle of a group of men who went silent except for one.

“Egoraven!”

Looking up, Egoraven gasped as the color drained from her face. “Cerrik—”

Cerrik’s eyes narrowed into slits, his nostrils flaring with each breath. He was not happy to see her. Egoraven took a hard gulp, glancing at the equally stern men surrounding flanking him. They all wore the chains of knighthood that sparkled too noticeably against their fine clothing. Everything about them screamed their rank and nobility. “I take it you all have heard,” she hesitantly commented as her fingers stiffened.

 “I have tolerated you for much longer than any sane man should.” Cerrik loomed over the unicorn as he slowly paced forward.  “But my feelings for Alexandria have clouded my judgment.” He spoke slowly and very deliberately.

“I did not mean for this to happen the way it did.” Egoraven felt the hair stand on the back of her neck, noticing how the men shuffled their positions to surround her. “I just wanted to be a knight.” She could barely control the nervousness in her voice.

Howling laughter startled her, and her face heated up with embarrassment as the other knights joined in.

“Did you think becoming a knight was about winning tournaments and collecting favors?” Cerrik roared. “Did you think that just because Lady Alexandria decreed you a champion made you so?” He took a deep breath and clenched his fists. “She thinks nothing of her lands and her father’s wishes. All my idiot bride thinks of is anyone who can satisfy her base desires.” He pointed to the other men. “We were born with the code in our blood—generations of knights with the blessings of kings that gave us the honor to strive.” He stepped closer, his face full of disdain. “But you—you are nothing but an outcast belittling all we work for— what all our families worked for. A creature who dares to dream like a man but doesn’t even have a pot to piss in. You have embarrassed me and my name—all our names—for the last time.”

Egoraven flinched at his words. Backing up, she bumped into one of the other men. Their circle had grown much smaller than she had noticed. “Cerrik, I—”

Her vision went white at what felt like an explosion at the back of her head, and then, in that exact second, she felt the hardness of stone against her whole body. Flicking her eyes open, the blurry vision of shuffling feet was all around her. As her head throbbed, Egoraven realized she was on the ground. A boot crashed into her stomach. Egoraven squirmed and writhed at the pain, the magic frantically trying to flow but thwarted once again by the draining stone. She let out a cry as she felt herself being lifted, but that, too, was interrupted by a fist meeting her face several times and then again on her torso. Egoraven slumped with her head rolling, strings of dark saliva dripping from her bottom lip. In a haze, she saw Cerrik evaluating her as his companions looked on, pleased with what was happening so far. Her flopping ears caught the murmurs of witnesses to the attack, but no one would dare come to help her. This was the business of knighted nobles, and that was how it would remain.

Cerrik leaned in close, breathing in the unicorn’s face. “I’m going to do what I should have done back in Doornham. There’s no one here to save you this time.” Reaching out, he grabbed her horn and raised her head.

Everything turned white again. All Egoraven could remember was hearing herself scream in rage. No mortal touches a unicorn’s horn. Bursting away from the hold of men behind her, she lashed out, striking a sharp hoof into Cerrik’s midsection, knocking him back. She then turned on the other men who thought they could overpower the unicorn. With a flurry of fists and hooves, she threw each of them aside. Surprising them with the force of her hits, Egoraven made her escape.

Her whole body burned as she weaved clumsily through the alleys, trying to lose the knights who most likely knew these streets by memory. No matter where she ducked and tumbled, their yells for her head continued to follow close behind. It was only a matter of time before she accidentally ended up somewhere she didn’t know and couldn’t escape. These men wanted to kill her, and if they couldn’t do it in the arena, they most certainly would do it here.

Realizing there was no way to shake off her determined attackers, she tried to devise a plan. Jumping into an enclosed yard, she was met with a fluttering clothing line. Grabbing a cloak, she knew she didn’t have much of a plan as much as only one option. Clutching at her neck, she tore off the talisman.

First Mother, give me the strength…

The knights continued their frantic running, looking for the unicorn. They were sure they had seen her duck through the back streets leading into the slum quarter, but their searching proved fruitless. Backtracking through where they had come from, they ignored a filthy barefoot peasant in a mud-stained cloak, pressing herself as hard as she could against the wall of the narrow walkway to let the rushing men pass.

The girl kept walking until the barking knights could no longer be heard, tears creating trails in the dirt on her face that revealed the dark bruises underneath. Ducking into an underpass, she leaned against the stone, letting out a frustrating cry as a shimmering wave sparkled around her. Egoraven gasped at the release of her human body. Wiping her face with the fur of her wrists, she dropped the cloak off her shoulders. Exhausted, in pain, and needing time to recover from her sudden use of magic, she slid onto the ground. Slumping into herself, she let the tears flow again.

* * *

Amadaeo paused before the hedge maze, still bothered by the events of the night before. But he tried not to think too much about it. Soon, the lady would no longer be their problem. Whatever odd behavior she exhibited would now be for her husband and father to figure out and care for. He let out a huff. Even though being disqualified from tournament broke Egoraven’s heart, he looked forward to getting away from these people.

“I will be glad once we leave this place. What I would give to be surrounded by the Valley again.” He pursed his lips. How easy it was to forget this was not some holiday they were on, a fanciful excursion into this crowded, churlish, and pungent realm of man. Dragons had chased them out, and there was no possible way the two of them could do anything to fight back on their own. Egoraven’s plan, no matter how foolhardy, had some sense to it. But even that was taken away from them.

Even if he were to leave Egoraven behind in the care of three blacksmiths, what would he do alone in those woods, anyway? The unicorns of Edinrahn were not solitary creatures. He needed his herd—his family. And now they were captives of dragons. This time, he snorted and stomped his hoof. Unicorns at the mercy of dragons? Their prisoners? The very idea was blasphemy. But what could he do? This had to be some divine test, Arias, the first unicorn, was putting them through. It had to be. All he could hope was that they were making the right decisions. He turned in the direction of the stables.

“Good afternoon, Master Unicorn.”

Amadaeo was startled at seeing Lady Alexandria walking past him. Was he so deep in thought that he didn’t hear or pick up her scent? He looked her over as she continued walking in that same slow, tiptoe manner she had before. She was dressed in a plain dressing gown and robe with a high collar and long sleeves meant for indoor leisure and before-bed nightcaps, not roaming gardens. At least she didn’t look like she had been dragged through the mud. He began following her.

“Oh, Alexandria, what a surprise to see you here. If you do not mind my asking, where are you going alone like this?”

Alexandria stopped and turned, her eyes still dark and empty. “Why, I am on my way to meet someone. Would you like to join me?” She still spoke in that stilted style.

Amadaeo knew in his gut that this was a bad sign, but this was still the lady Egoraven had sworn to serve. Seeing her like this and letting her go into the woods alone didn't seem right. In a combination of suspicious reason and animal curiosity, the unicorn nodded his head. “Yes. I shall accompany you,” he answered. Alexandria smiled at him.

Unlike the meandering in the garden, Alexandria walked through the woods, seeming to know exactly where she was going. Amadaeo followed close behind, still wondering what she was doing. And the further they got, the more concerned he became. This was not a simple stroll. They were now getting into territory usually reserved for the royal hunting of large game. He could easily maneuver through such a dense forest, but it wouldn’t take much for the lady before him to get lost. Amadaeo took a chance to speak to her again. “My lady, we seem to be walking deeper into the woods. Who could you be possibly meeting—?”

The words barely came out before Amadaeo realized what he had just said. How could he, a unicorn of all creatures, have been so stupid? The talisman around his neck suddenly felt heavy. With a jump, he grabbed Alexandria’s robe, stopping her with a jolt.

“Master Unicorn, what is the meaning of your behavior?” She sounded surprised, but not quite.

“I don’t know who did this, but you are obviously under some kind of enchantment.” Amadaeo pulled, trying to get her to turn in the opposite direction and get her to walk back to the castle. “There are no guards here. Remove my talisman, and I can break whatever spell you’re under. If I had recognized the spell that night, I would have done it then.”

Alexandria reached out and caressed his muzzle. “You beautiful creature… can you not see? I am not enspelled—I have been set free…”

The unicorn jerked his head, freeing himself from her touch. His brow furrowed, and his ears flattened. “Alexandria, I have seen what this type of magic can do. This is a very dangerous game you are playing—”

 “You know nothing of it.”

The stallion turned toward the voice that sounded so familiar but did not match the face that greeted him. A gentleman with ginger hair and a matching mustache stepped out of the brush into where they stood. Alexandria beamed at his presence.

“Who are you?” Amadaeo demanded, quivering his neck, hoping to snap the cord and be free of the draining stone. “Do not think I am above trampling you and dragging your body back.”

As the man laughed at the threat, several shadows appeared in the brush and rushed around them. Before the unicorn could think, he felt several heavy lassos encircle his head. The stallion reared and thrashed as burly, brutish men were pulled towards him, but they did not let go of the ropes. Others appeared, throwing their lassos, working fast and as a team.

“Hurry now, those ropes won’t hold for long,” the ginger noble yelled as he weaved to avoid getting caught up in the wrangle. “No mortal can weave the rope that can hold a unicorn.”

One was able to catch a kicking leg, allowing them to throw Amadaeo off balance, sending him crashing to the ground. They all pulled their cords simultaneously, attempting to hold him in place. Amadaeo still struggled, the ropes digging and burning into his flesh.

“Dog! Who are you?” Amadaeo screamed again. The ginger cretin was right. The unicorn just had to wait a little longer before the bonds would inevitably break.

“Not even by scent?” he answered, thumbing the hilt of his sword as he came closer while keeping his distance from the horn. “Surely that talisman can’t be affecting all your senses.”

With a sliding ring, the blade appeared. Taking the weapon, he picked at the cord of the draining stone. The talisman fell with a deliberate cut, opening a deep wound on the unicorn’s neck. Amadaeo flinched at the initial pain, but as his magic flooded him, finally free of its confines, he focused on the suddenly shifting face of the noble before him, the glamour sparkling and dissolving.

The first rope snapped.

“Rillian!” Amadaeo bellowed. “Egoraven was right! You were here all along!” He glanced at Alexandria, staring back with no reaction or emotion. Everything was making sense, but it was much too late. “You enchanted her! You traitorous pig! I will end you right now!”

The second rope snapped.

The unicorn aimed his horn and lunged forward, but the strike proved ineffective as the remaining handlers strained to keep him in place. It didn’t take much for Rillian to step aside.

“No. I think not.” Rillian gripped his sword.

The third rope snapped.

Rillian charged with a swift dodge.

The unicorn let out a screeching cry as the blade met its mark in his heart. For any other beast, such a wound would be fatal, but for a unicorn, it was enough to stop the struggling as Amadaeo slumped and lay stunned.

Rillian kneeled before the unicorn, his teeth gleaming as a wicked, satisfied smile spread. Relishing the sound of heavy, laborious breathing, the elf prince caressed the unicorn’s muzzle as if greeting a beloved steed. “I know your magic is working its wonders on you right now, but we both know there’s a limit to that.” He slid his fingers around the base of his horn as his other hand tightened on the hilt of his sword. Returning his hand to the unicorn’s chin, he clutched Amadaeo’s beard and planted a kiss on his nose. With a groan and a strong pull, the blade slid out.  Rillian stood, grunting as blood splashed on his boots.

The stallion stared an ice-cold eye at the elf prince. Rillian ignored it. It wasn’t the first time a unicorn had cursed his presence. “Your kind will rue this day,” Amadaeo coughed, blood filling his mouth. The magic would not work faster than what he knew the prince had planned.

Rillian raised his sword again. “Spare me,” he spat as he brought the blade down and began to hack away.

* * *

The guards couldn’t help but stare as Egoraven walked through the castle gates. Her face was no longer swollen but still covered in dark purple bruises that were taking a bit to heal. She had given up on hiding until they faded just enough to be at least not as noticeable. Needing to return before it got too late, she took the gawking at her disheveled appearance as they came.

Clutching her still-aching midsection, she dared anyone to point out her lack of the talisman. She had been unable to find it after the altercation and was in no mood to deal with it. Luckily, the guards just let her pass without comment. Judging by her appearance, she obviously had been punished enough. By this time, Johar and Morgan would be in the stables, but there was one stop she had to make first.

As Egoraven reached the corridor, she followed a pair of pages, taking a trunk in the same direction she was walking. At first, she thought nothing of it, considering the many lords and ladies visiting for tournament. But her stomach dropped as they turned into the hallway she was also going in. The pages stopped at Orchid’s room.

Egoraven stepped back, watching the door open, catching a glimpse of the unicorn in scarlet gesturing them to enter. “You can leave the trunk right inside the door—” she heard Orchid instruct the pages, who dutifully did as they were told without a word. As they exited the room, Egoraven went in.

“Egoraven—?” Orchid gasped at the state of her face, even though the bruises had faded further from before. “Oh my goodness! What happened to you—?”

“I need to come in,” Egoraven meekly answered, not waiting for her to answer.

“Egoraven, now is not the time—”

            Dresses lay strewn across the bed in every combination of scarlet and golden ochre. The closet was open and in disarray as another trunk next to it revealed its cache of meticulously folded clothing in the process of being packed.

“What is this?”

Orchid did not answer.

Egoraven glanced at the other trunk which the pages had left open. It was empty, and judging from the clothing strewn about, it wouldn’t be left that way for long.

“You meant not to be here when I returned.” She felt her heart sink.

Orchid sighed as she fussed with her bodice, smoothing out wrinkles that weren’t there. “Please… don’t make this harder than it already is.” She turned away.

“Are you returning to Dallyn?” Egoraven asked.

“I have arranged passage on a merchant caravan to Hymir. I’ve been meaning to see the desert city for a while now.” She answered as a matter of factly as possible.

“But what of Alexandria?”

“What of her?” Orchid sat on the edge of the bed. “She is a grown woman about to be married. She has become too dependent on me, and it is time for her to learn the responsibilities of her station.”

Egoraven wrung her hands, hesitating to continue. “But—but what of me?”

The question made Orchid frown. “Egoraven, don’t…”

Rushing forward, Egoraven grabbed Orchid’s hands, almost falling to her knees. Orchid winced at how hard she was holding them. “Come with me. Let me take you to the desert city. Let me give you everything your heart desires.”

“Don’t be silly.” Orchid couldn’t hide the pity on her face. “I have seen how you live. You may be a princess, but you do not have anything other than the title.”

Egoraven’s eyes widened. “What do you know?”

Orchid sighed again. “Don’t look at me like that. I have been with every manner of lord, lady, and even kings. I know what to look for, what to expect. It is part of my trade to know.” Pulling her hands free, she caressed Egoraven’s face as she stood up and paced away. “You can never give me what I seek.”

Egoraven jumped to her hooves. “My love—I give you my love. Can’t that be enough?”

She watched Orchid’s proper shoulders sink. “They all give me their love.”

“No—not this—” Egoraven pleaded, trying to get the scarlet unicorn to face her. “I love you. My entire being cannot live without you beside me. Accept my love and come with me. Let us be rid of all this.”

There was a long pause.

“You do not love me.”

Egoraven choked. “Of course I do! Don’t you feel it?”

Orchid continued to keep her back to her. “Do not ask me to answer that.”

“Don’t ask?” Grabbing Orchid, she cradled her face in her hands. How she wanted to kiss those perfect lips again. “Don’t you feel the same? We crossed paths for a reason. What were the chances that I would meet another unicorn like myself? We were meant to be! Tell me you love me!”

Orchid pulled away and returned to the bed, trying to fold another petticoat more to have a reason not to make eye contact. “Do not confuse chance with opportunity, Egoraven. That is what this was. The opportunity for you to see that you are not alone. This is why I must leave.”

“Why?” Egoraven cried, grabbing her shoulders.

“Because I do not love you!” Orchid yelled back, shoving her away, exasperated.

Egoraven stood back in shock. Orchid literally pushed her away. How could this be happening after the other night? Didn’t that mean anything?

“You only love what you think I represent.” Orchid pointed to her horn and cradled her tail. “Despite this horn—this tail—I am not a unicorn. I am a mortal, human woman who made a decision. I am a courtesan. Making people believe that there is love is what I do, but in the end, all these lords—they know what is between us is not love. It can never be love. Even Alexandria knew that. And now you must know that too. Yes, I shared my bed with you, Egoraven, but it is what I do. I just did you the favor of not asking for payment afterward.” She continued her packing, hiding her trembling hands.

The silence between them turned into a wall. Egoraven felt herself collapsing at the weight of her words. Everything she felt. Everything she did. Everything they did. It all meant nothing.

Her hooves tapped softly as she walked to the door. Ears drooping, she took a breath as she lingered. “I guess it really was too much to expect to gain the affection of a whore.” Before she could take another step and leave the room altogether, her ears perked at the flurry of ruffling behind her. Feeling nails dig into her shoulder, she spun around and met the sharp sting of a hard, furious slap across her face. Egoraven staggered in surprise.

“Don’t you dare disrespect me!” Orchid’s face was red with rage. “Unlike you, at least I know what I am and am willing to accept the responsibilities and consequences of it!” Perfectly painted lips tightened around bared teeth as a sun-kissed hand pointed straight as an arrow through the door towards the corridor. “Get out.”