The morning sun sliced through the crack in the curtains, painting a bright, warm stripe directly across Jamie's nose.
She blinked, scrunched her face, and let out a long, theatrical yawn that ended in a sharp little shiver. Stretching her arms out wide, her hands immediately met the cold, empty expanse of the mattress beside her.
She was still in Elias's room.
He hadn't come back yet.
"Ugh. Seriously?" she muttered, her voice gravelly with morning sleep.
She had spent half the night drifting off in bouts of restless anticipation, fully expecting him to sneak back through the window with some crazy story about where he'd been. But the room was just as empty as it had been when she fell asleep.
Jamie kicked the duvet off and sat up. Closing her eyes, she focused her senses. Her hearing strained against the walls of the house, picking up the rustle of wind and the chirping of the birds outside but no familiar heartbeat inside.
No footsteps.
No voices.
No dishes.
No Gyan.
No Alaric.
No Elias.
Her nose twitched, catching the faint, lingering scent of old dust and her own linen sheets. She was entirely alone in the house.
"Great. Just fantastic."
Her stomach let out a ferocious, echoing rumble that vibrated in her ribs. Deciding that brooding on an empty stomach was a waste of energy, she hopped out of bed, padded down the hallway to wash her face with icy water that made her gasp, and made a her way to the kitchen.
Within minutes, the small kitchen was smelling of sizzling grease. She cracked three eggs into a pan with a flick of her wrist, tossed in a thick slab of salted meat, and fried it up until the edges were dark and crispy. Pouring herself a massive mug of cold milk, she carried her heavy plate to the dining table and devoured the meal in record time.
Once finished, she stacked her plates, washed them with brisk efficiency, and sat back down at the table.
She tried to wait. She really did. She crossed her arms, and told herself she would sit like a proper, patient young lady until someone came back.
One minute.
Two.
Her foot started bouncing.
Three.
She leaned foward and drummed her fingers against the table.
Four.
She stood.
Sat.
Stood again.
"Ugh."
She dropped back into the chair.
"This is stupid." she hissed to the empty room, jumping up from her chair and pacing around the table.
"I can't believe this. I missed the entire festival. The Shadow Crew left. Sasha is—" She stopped, swallowing hard.
"And Elias is just gone. I can't even talk to anyone because no one is here."
She threw her hands up in exasperation.
"Honestly, at this point, I'd be happy to see even Gyan. At least she'd tell me to stop being stupid."
Silence.
"Great. Now I'm talking to myself."
Jamie sat down and stared at the ceiling.
"This house sucks when nobody's here."
Then she suddenly stood.
"That's it."
If Elias wasn't coming home, she would find him.
Probably.
Maybe.
And if he was having fun somewhere without her, she was absolutely going to make him regret doing it without her.
Charging upstairs into Elias's room,and grabbed his coat from the bed. She stared at it for a moment before wearing it herself the marched outside.
As she closed the fence gate and stepped out onto the street, she noticed Junior was sitting on the steps of the Amberose estate, dressed in white. His round face was set in a scowl, his arms crossed, his posture radiating the kind of childish indignation that only a spoiled noble boy could manage.
"Junior!" Jamie called, jogging over.
Junior jumped, startled out of a brooding trance, and snapped his head up.
"Oh. It's just you." He tried to smooth down his tunic, puffing out his chest to look older and more dignified, though his eyes darted nervously toward her fists, clearly remembering what she was capable of.
"Nice to see you too." Jamie grinned.
"Where were you and your mother yesterday?" Jamie asked, planting her hands on her hips over Elias's oversized coat. "The whole neighborhood was practically a ghost town when I got back."
"That's none of your business."
"Junior."
"What?"
"I can throw you."
He immediately straightened.
"I am perfectly capable of defending myself."
Jamie smiled.
"Sure."
Junior's confidence lasted approximately three seconds.
"The Lords had to hold an emergency meeting at the privy council," Junior recited, sounding as though he were repeating a lesson taught to him by a very stressed-out adult.
"They were trying to figure out what to do about the attack."
Jamie waved a hand dismissively. "Yeah, yeah, I know all about the boring old council."
"Then why did you ask?"
"Because I wanted you to tell me where Araba was."
Junior crossed his arms defensively. "Well, I bet you didn't know the festival is still happening."
Jamie's eyes widened, a rare look of genuine surprise breaking through her tough exterior. "Wait, what? They're still doing it? Are they insane?"
"It's complicated grown-up stuff," Junior said, sounding pleased to finally know something she didn't.
"My father tried explaining it, but it was just a bunch of grown-upnonsense about economics and public morale I didn't really understand."
Jamie folded her arms, mimicking his posture with an exaggerated eye roll.
"If I were the one being informed, I'd understand it instantly."
"Right, because you're such an expert on policy making," Junior sneered back.
"Better than you," she shot back with a grin.
"When you can barely sit still for five minutes?"
"Still better than you though." Jamie shoved his shoulder.
Then she became serious.
"What about Araba?"
Junior hesitated, his bravado slipping a fraction.
"Yeah. Mother was really scared. Father thought it wasn't safe for us to stay home, so we stayed in the administrative annex for hours while the meeting dragged on. Right now she's asleep."
He looked up at Jamie.
"She was worried about you."
Jamie blinked.
"Me?"
"And Elias since no one knew where you where during the entire incident."
Jamie felt a strange, warm pang in her chest. She thought about walking inside to check on Araba, but she knew the moment she stepped through that door, Araba would wake up and trap her in a maternal interrogation and forbid her from going out to look for Elias.
"Tell her... tell her Ellie and I are totally fine," Jamie said quickly, stepping back.
"And tell her she should come over this evening so we can cook dinner together."
Junior stared at her, raising an eyebrow. "Since when did I become your messenger?"
Jamie laughed, leaping forward to affectionately ruffle his dark hair. "Since right now, kid!"
"Hey! Stop that!" Junior batted her hand away furiously, his face flushing red as he scrambled back.
"I'm not a kid! And where are you even going dressed like that?"
Jamie flashed a sharp, toothy grin over her shoulder as she turned on her heel.
"To do something awesome!"
"Jamie, wait! You're going to get into trouble!" Junior yelled after her, but she was already gone, her boots tapping a fast, rhythmic beat against the cobblestones.
The city felt wrong.
As she walked through the winding streets of Aethelberg, the true, festering mood of the city began to press down on her.
The contrast from just hours ago was staggering. Yesterday, the streets had been a roaring ocean of joy, bright white garments, laughing children, and music echoing off the stone walls. Today, the festival was limping forward like a wounded animal.
Some people were out on the streets, but the vibrant, infectious energy had been thoroughly drained out of them. Some wore white, the festival's ceremonial color, but many did not. They wore the same clothes they had worn the day before, stained and rumpled, as if they couldn't be bothered to change.
Merchants stood behind wooden stalls trying to peddle carved wooden toys and sweet cakes, forcing stiff, desperate smiles onto their faces as they attempted to pretend everything was normal. But their eyes were darting nervously to every shadow, and their hands trembled when they exchanged coins.
Jamie walked through the crowds, her senses extended. She could feel their sadness, their intent—it was a heavy, suffocating blanket of resentment, thick and bitter like rusted iron.
'I don't get it, she thought. The festival is supposed to make people happy. Why are they so... sad?'Jamie thought to herself, her small brow furrowing as she dodged a cart piled high with wilted festival streamers.
'Why on earth are they still holding the festival? Anyone with half a brain can feel that the people are furious. They're just forcing everyone to smile while their boots are planted firmly on our necks.'
She shook her head, trying to clear out the heavy thoughts.
'Whatever. Politics is stupid. It's just a bunch of rich guys playing chess with people's lives. Junior's right, I don't get it, and I don't care. I just need to find Ellie.'
She continued searching, her nose twitching as she tracked him through the winding streets. It was faint, barely there, but she could still catch it—a trace of something familiar, something that smelled like him.
She passed the square where the Revolutionary had attacked. The ground was pulveised and there were several destroyed buildings around the area. Even though the blood had been washed away and the damaged stalls repaired were repaired. The memory lingered regardless and Jamie could feel it in the air, a faint echo of the panic and fear that had consumed the city.
Her gaze lingered on the area for a bit before she continued following the scent of her friend which had become stronger. As she crossed the plaza, her sharp nose twitched. Another scent caught her attention, cutting sharply across Elias's trail. It was sour, unwashed, like someone who slept in garbage.
'Ew. Who even is this? When was the last time this guy took a bath? He reeks.'
Curiosity warred with urgency, but Elias's trail pulled her forward, leading her inexorably toward the formidable outer walls of the royal palace. She looked up, whistling low through her teeth.
Jamie hid behind a corner, studying the entrance.
"Okay, smart guy," Jamie muttered to herself, staring at the massive barrier. "How on earth did you get in here?"
This route was one of the ,many service gates that the servants used. Servants holding crates of laundry and baskets of fresh produce were being checked through in a steady stream, flanked by a squad of royal guards clad in shining plate armor who watched every movement with hawk-like diligence.
She closed her eyes, letting her Flow perception expand outward in a subtle wave. The air around the service gate hummed with a complex, multi-layered Containment Array that served as a barrier. With her knowledge of arrays she knew that the containment was definitely paired with something else, perhaps a Sensory Array that would trigger some alarm or effect if someone attempted to break in. Meaning she couldn't use Flow Suppression to sneak in like she planned.
'I need another way.'
Her eyes fell on a rat skittering along the base of the wall where she was.
She remembered what she did with those corrupt bats in the tunnels the previous day and a wicked, brilliant little smile spread across her face.
She got up and walked toward the entrance, her steps light, her expression calm. She reached out with her synesthesia, projecting a psychic aura of complete mundanity and familiarity straight at the guards' minds. She wrapped herself in a mental cloak that screamed, 'You know me, I belong here, I'm just the laundry girl's annoying little sister.'
'Please work, please work, please work', she chanted frantically in her head as she walked past the gate with long, confident strides, keeping her head down.
"Hey, you—" one guard started to say, glancing at her.
Jamie didn't stop. She raised a hand lazily, offering a bored, casual wave as if she were deeply annoyed by whatever he was about to say.
The guard blinked, his brow furrowing in confusion, but the mental fog of her familiar-intent charm took hold. He muttered something unintelligible under his breath, waved his hand dismissively.
Jamie didn't exhale until she was a full twenty yards past the checkpoint. She leaned back against a white marble pillar, clutching her chest as her heart hammered a frantic rhythm against her ribs.
"Ha! It worked! I didn't think It would but it did! Oh, I am a genius."
Her celebration was cut short by the sound of approaching footsteps. Panicking, she ducked behind a massive decorative urn, instincively throwing up her Flow Suppression just as a young palace maid carrying a towering stack of fresh linens rounded the corner.
The maid stopped abruptly, frowning, and turned her head directly toward the urn. Her eyes swept the empty space, lingering for a terrifying second on Jamie's hiding spot.
Jamie held her breath, curling into a tight ball behind the ceramic base.
The maid blinked, let out a soft, dismissive huff, and muttered, "Must be rats again."
She hitched the linens higher on her shoulder, muttering to herself.
"I swear, if I don't get these robes up to Envoy LeFay's room before the morning briefing, Madam Celine is going to strip my wages."
With a rustle of heavy skirts, the maid turned on her heel and hurried down the corridor. Jamie slumped against the marble floor, letting out a long, shuddering sigh of relief.
She peeked out from behind the urn.
"Alright, Ellie," Jamie whispered, a fierce, adventurous grin returning to her face as she rose to her feet and darted silently after the maid.
"Let's see what kind of mess you've gotten yourself into this time."