Isabella watched the sea from Duke Valerio’s chamber, going through all that she’d learned in her head. She’d donned a more comfortable dress, and Valerio had left her alone with her thoughts. Solomon and Randolph were both just outside the door, guarding. Technically, Isabella had yet to pay Randolph for today… but still he stuck around. She was grateful to him. She’d be sure to pay him a substantial amount, whenever she had the chance. For now… reflection.

  Another continent.

  Duke Valerio had managed to keep it hidden for all eight years where her last life diverged from this one. Now, he was jeopardizing all of that to help her. Or… at least, so it seemed. Could she trust he had given her the full picture? It was hard to believe.

  Isabella looked to the table she sat at. Somehow, in the midst of all that chaos, she’d managed to hold onto that ruby necklace that Bernadetta had given to her. She couldn’t even say why. The conversation with Bernadetta the previous night played out in her head, again and again. It stood as a monument to what her trust had earned. She probably shouldn’t have so coldly rebuked the woman—now, whoever was backing her would be cautious.

  “What are you thinking about, Your Highness?” Alice, who was staying in the room, spoke up.

  “Just… treat me like Isabella, now. I don’t want to think about titles and positions,” she responded, then gestured. “Come sit with me, if you want.”

  Alice walked forward nervously and sat on the opposite chair in the small table on the balcony.

  “Valerio’s offered me a way to leave,” Isabella said, fiddling with the ruby of the necklace. It was well-made. “Abandon everything.”

  “I…” Alice began, but trailed off suddenly and stared at Isabella uncertainly.

  “This city has been my whole world,” Isabella continued. “The few times that I was allowed to leave, I never wandered far. Horseback riding in the meadows was perhaps the freest I’d been. Once, I tried to ride away… but they found me by nightfall.” Isabella set the necklace down, and looked at Alice. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t complain, given the luxury it affords. But… I’ve always thought about leaving. I just never had the nerve, or the opportunity, to try it since then.”

  “I… think I understand why,” Alice said. “After last night, especially. Was it different under your father?”

  “I seldom saw him,” Isabella said. “He told the majordomo to take care of me, and that was it. I… can’t recall ever having a real conversation with him. We would be dressed up and arranged to welcome him back on triumphal ceremonies. I saw him from afar on horseback as people threw petals at him for his latest victory.”

  “He never… visited you, checked on you?” Alice asked.

  “The only time that I interacted with him was when I did something that caused my tutors alarm,” Isabella said. “Then, he’d arrange a punishment to correct my course. That was about the extent of our interaction.”

  “That’s awful,” Alice said straight-forwardly.

  “Is it?” Isabella grabbed the necklace again, pulling on the silver chain. “I was afforded tutors who gave me a robust education. I had people taking care of my needs all of my childhood. Maids, servants, the finest fare, luxuries unimaginable—everything that people dream of. People always told me how lucky I was, but… I’ve never felt good. I always thought there was something wrong with me.”

  Alice placed her hands over Isabella’s, wordlessly.

  “Other people have it much harder,” Isabella said. “Why should I complain when there are serfs who live their life doing back-breaking work in service of a tyrant? What right do I have? Last night, I was contemplating selling art for more than most workers earn in their year. Why should I—" She trailed off, then shook her head. “I’m rambling.”

  “And I’m listening, Isabella,” Alice encouraged.

  Isabella turned her wrist and grabbed Alice’s hands. “If I’m incapable of happiness here… how helpless will I be elsewhere?”

  Alice squeezed Isabella’s hands tightly. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Isabella. The people around you failed you.”

  “I don’t see how.” Isabella shook her head.

  “Do you know…” Alice bit her lip, thinking. “Do you recall those wax fruits that nobles sometimes have? They’re made to imitate fruit, but they’re made of wax and painted.”

  Isabella nodded.

  “Those fruits are always prettier than the fruits we had in our orchard, back home,” Alice continued. “No marks, no spots… they’re always perfect, flawless. Real fruit doesn’t grow like that. It looks lumpy, misshapen. But it tastes amazing.” Alice tapped Isabella’s hands. “You’ve been fed wax fruit your entire life. They look beautiful, but… they aren’t fruit, and they won’t keep you fed. Having seen you, I can say you’re much more capable than you think,” Alice encouraged.

  Isabella looked out to the sea once more, thinking about that metaphor deeply.

  “I was going to learn magic,” Isabella admitted. “If I leave… I imagine that’d be no longer true. And things… things won’t stop with the new king,” she said with certainty. “Dovhain will continue to spiral. More assassinations, more schemes… and eventually, even war. Already, I imagine, claimants are rising.”

  Alice pulled her hands away. “If that’s true… then all the more reason to leave.”

  Isabella looked over. “But what about people like you?” she asked. “You could’ve died last night. Hundreds probably did.”

  “What can you do?” Alice asked.

  Isabella inhaled deeply, preparing a recitation. “A noble lord’s highest duty is to protect his subjects from harm, ensuring their safety in times of war and peace alike. He must be just, ruling with fairness and resolving disputes with wisdom, so that his people feel secure and valued. A lord’s care for his lands is equally important; he must oversee the harvests, ensure that his people have enough to thrive, and offer support in times of hardship. In exchange for their loyalty and labor, he provides not only protection but also stability and order.” She looked over. “That was what I was taught. But what do I see? Nothing of the sort.”

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  Alice didn’t respond.

  “Shouldn’t I do something?” Isabella said. “Or… at the very least, shouldn’t I find someone that can, and support them with all my heart? I lived in the lap of luxury because of that vow. Shouldn’t I uphold that promise, pay back that favor? All of what I have, even this opportunity, comes because of the labor of the people we’ve vowed to protect.”

  “I’m not sure. All of this stuff goes over my head,” Alice admitted.

  Isabella thought in silence. If she left… it’d probably be better for Duke Valerio’s cause, too. He’d be able to withdraw from the public life, the spectacle, and support his people all the better. She would only be a burden on his aims, which were every bit as noble as the lords that were upheld in her teachings.

  Alice was right. What could Isabella do? She’d already failed to stop the endless crisis once before. The ruby necklace in her hand… it was a reminder that she couldn’t even have a single true friendship. But why was she back here, back in time all these years ago?

  There had to be some deeper purpose to this. That was the largest thing bringing her pause.

  ***

  Isabella was sitting on the bed reading one of the many books that Valerio had on his shelf when the door opened and the Duke of the Isles entered. He shut the door behind him quickly, and looked at Alice.

  “Do you have everything you need to attend to Isabella?” he asked her, walking to stand by the bedside.

  “Umm… yes, Your Grace,” Alice said politely.

  Valerio nodded and sat on the bed, and Isabella looked at him without a word.

  “Claude’s settling into his new role,” Valerio said. “I’m told the coronation is going to be held five days from now.”

  Isabella nodded, setting the book aside. “The nobles probably want it to happen immediately.”

  “I wanted to consult with you,” Valerio continued. “Get your insight into his character, and how things will play out. You’ve displayed great acumen in reading people. Do you know Claude well?”

  Isabella took a moment to gather her thoughts. “Claude… is a puppet with a conscience.”

  ***

  “How could this happen?!” Claude demanded, yelling before his council. “Do you think I wanted this, wanted my brothers and sisters to be slaughtered on the streets of the city like rats? No! I can almost guarantee that someone in this room is responsible for what happened.”

  All of the nobles looked at their newly-named king, but none spoke up.

  “We’re going to conduct a full investigation,” Claude said. “This can’t go unpunished. It could be common fact that I permitted my blood to be slain in service of my ambitions. If this is your idea of ‘help,’ then…” He shook his head. “By the gods…”

  ***

  “A puppet now, maybe, but he is the king,” Valerio said, looking at Isabella as she sat there. “Now, he’ll have the holy paladins backing him. He’ll have royal court looking to him as the final authority. So long as he acts justly…”

  “Everyone likes Claude,” Isabella said. “He’s openhanded, kind, and patient. And why do they like these traits of his? Because it allows them to control him all the easier. He has a great deal of difficulty standing up for himself, exerting authority over others.” Isabella looked at Valerio. “He doesn’t like conflict. In many ways, he’s the exact opposite of Edgar, who loved conflict and persecution. And with Edgar having just been killed, he’ll be hesitant to overuse his authority.”

  “Hmm.” Valerio leaned his hands back onto the bed. “You don’t think he’ll be able to assert himself properly?”

  “If I know Claude…” Isabella thought. “He’ll probably already be offering people an out.”

  ***

  “I’m not Edgar,” Claude said, rubbing his forehead in stress. “If the ones responsible can confess… either here and now, or privately… we can settle this. Elsewise, when it’s dragged to the surface… it won’t be as pleasant, as clean.”

  “Wise words, Your Majesty,” one of his supporters said. “I hope that the party responsible can take this time to reflect deeply on their actions, and throw themselves upon the mercy of the king.”

  “Exactly,” Claude gestured toward the one who’d spoken. “I have no intention of abusing royal authority. We all remember the tragedy of Count Faust. Any matter a royal decides henceforth should be supported full-heartedly by his council.”

  There was raucous agreement and praise in the room.

  ***

  “But Claude isn’t stupid,” Isabella continued. “He’s just too charitable in his thinking. Too trusting. He’ll start to realize what the people underneath him are doing… and he’ll buck. Nevertheless, his reign will cause irreparable damage to royal authority, strengthening the council and the lords in a misguided attempt to make things fairer for all. In attempting to lessen tyranny, he’ll merely enthrone several different tyrants.”

  “You sound very certain,” Valerio noted, looking at her closely.

  Isabella didn’t respond, waiting for him to say more.

  After a few moments of silence, Valerio started to smile at her. Strangely, Isabella couldn’t stop herself from doing the same until she looked away.

  “I’d like to show you around the estate tomorrow,” Valerio said. “Introduce you to my people.”

  Isabella looked back at him. “Will you carry me around like a child again?” she asked dryly.

  “I could,” he said, but then produced some bandages. “But I’ve bought some soft footwear with a solid grip, as the physician recommended. He also said to change your bandages once a day, so I’ll do that now.”

  “Uhh… I can take care of that, Your Grace,” Alice said, walking closer.

  Valerio looked at her. “I’ve done this plenty of times,” he said, then looked back to Isabella. “Though… it’s your choice.”

  Isabella hesitated. “I… wouldn’t mind either way.”

  “Good,” Valerio said, and then got to work.

  Valerio was very quick and efficient—in some ways, gentler than the doctor, despite the fact his hands made her feet seem small. He had great deal of scars on those hands of his. Perhaps they were from working with those knives he seemed to use so often.

  Isabella’s mind naturally drifted back to his offer of taking her away from this place. If she left… her knowledge of her previous life would go to waste. She had to believe there was a reason that she was sent back. And strangely… another thing brought her pause. If she left, she’d see less of Valerio.

  “Do you honestly trust my advice?” Isabella asked as he worked.

  Valerio cast a glance at her, then looked back at the bandages. “I think you have excellent political judgment. I’ve seen it countless times, from your subtle actions to your sweeping declarations. You’re better than me, by far. I kept my nose out because I don’t know these things well.”

  Isabella bunched some of the bedsheets in her hand, thinking deeply. “And would you trust me without basis?” she said. “Would you commit resources to something which makes no sense?”

  “If you asked nicely,” he said, finishing the wrapping. It felt secure, reliable.

  Isabella laughed lightly, then looked at his work. Maybe she was thinking about this the wrong way. Even if this was the same life, in similar times… it didn’t mean that the road would be the same.

  Deep down, Isabella already knew her answer. She just didn’t know why.