Isabella walked through Valerio’s estate, her arm linked with his to stabilize herself. She took light, delicate steps in the soft shoes that he’d brought her. These were perhaps the most comfortable pieces of footwear she’d even worn—even the slippers of the palace were meant for decency over function. The cuts on her feet barely troubled her. Following just alongside was Alice, and trailing behind was Randolph and Solomon.

  “In the far north, there’s a facility called a sauna,” Valerio explained to her as they passed by a room. “They heat stones with flame, then pour water on those heated stones to generate steam. There’s nothing quite more relaxing. I found similar places far overseas in a different style, and decided to build one here.” He gestured toward it.

  Isabella glanced within to see a mostly empty room, then looked back to Valerio. He seemed quite eager to show her his home, she noticed. He seemed very proud of it.

  “We have the kitchens,” Valerio told her next, gesturing right. “My chef Rahul is from a land called Magahatha. He knows how to use its spices, most of which were cultivated in his land. He’s also taken to traditional Dovhain cuisine quite well. I daresay his application of spices improves most dishes.”

  Looking within, Isabella saw a very dark-skinned man cleaning out a stone oven in traditional Dovhain chef whites.

  “Enslaved him, I imagine?” Randolph asked pointedly.

  Valerio glanced at Randolph, then called out, “Rahul.”

  Rahul looked away from the oven, brushed off his hands, then walked up. Valerio spoke a tongue that Isabella had never heard before. Rahul laughed, then pointed at Randolph and said something. She didn’t know what, but Valerio chuckled. Rahul left, getting back to work.

  Valerio looked over to Randolph. “Rahul said he’s as much a slave to me as your mother is to him. Namely, that it’s a willing relationship.”

  Isabella seldom heard such direct, vulgar talk, but smiled despite herself. Solomon laughed loudly, while even Randolph gave a begrudging nod of concession. Valerio resumed the tour.

  “Alongside the kitchens is my storage area for spices and teas,” he continued enthusiastically. “Tea culture from the lands to the far west is quite sophisticated, though wholly different from what we have in Dovhain. The leaves that they use range from strange to delicious. Though… I’ve taken to a beverage called coffee. It uses the seeds within a particular cherry—they’re roasted, ground to a powder, and then immersed in boiling water. Much like tea, but… infinitely more invigorating.”

  Isabella looked his way in surprise. In her last life, coffee had emerged about five years from now. It was quite the surprise to hear that Valerio already had a taste for it. When she’d tried it, she hadn’t liked it, but hearing that Valerio did…

  “I’d like to try some,” she told him.

  Valerio looked her way. “I can have that arranged.” He looked back. “I’d brought some animals from overseas, but the majority of them were miserable here, so I returned them to where they were taken from. I kept only a few that seemed to like it here. There’s the monkey, Sosen, who sometimes roams the trees outside.”

  “I’ve heard of monkeys.” Isabella furrowed her brows. “He doesn’t run away?”

  “No. We’ve had some conversations. He knows not to be seen by the people outside of the estate,” Valerio told her, and she looked at him disbelievingly. “Then… we’ve my parrot and the chameleons, both of whom are within here.”

  Valerio opened another door, walking inside. This room was spacious, with many windows and plenty of light. Her eyes were drawn at once to the bird perched in the corner, looking down at them all. It was a deep gray, but had a bright red tail. It watched them cautiously. Valerio walked up to it.

  “This is Captain. She can repeat what you say,” Valerio said, offering his hand. “Say ‘land ho,’ Captain.”

  The bird sidled onto his hand, but watched Isabella cautiously. She waited while Valerio repeatedly tried to prompt Captain to speak, but nothing happened. She wondered if he was joking.

  “Hmm. It seems you’ve rendered her speechless with your presence alone. Usually she’s quite chatty,” Valerio said disappointedly, then helped the bird back onto his perch. He gestured. “Emperor and Empress won’t disappoint. Come here.”

  Isabella was taken to a glass box with a barred metal lid that displayed some greenery. She looked around for any sign of life, but saw nothing. She cast a glance at Valerio, silently asking for an explanation.

  “I can’t see Empress, but… here.” Valerio moved closer to her, then pointed. “Follow my finger.”

  Isabella did, watching. Eventually… she spotted movement. Among the leaves, she saw what she realized were eyes moving about. Then, the creature started to move, and she grabbed Valerio’s arm perhaps by instinct. It was a large reptile—green, and perfectly blending in. It ascended along the branches. To her astonishment, it began to shift colors—from green, to a bright yellow, to a blue, then to a brown, and finally a red.

  Isabella whipped her head to Valerio, eyes wide. He was watching her with a smile on his face.

  “Hey, baby. Come over here,” Captain suddenly said, and Isabella turned her head in surprise as the bird preened on at them.

  Isabella pointed. “That sounds just like—”

  “I said shut up,” the bird interrupted, then sounded as though it was laughing.

  Isabella couldn’t help but join it in laughing.

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

  “Captain picks up a lot from my people,” Valerio explained, smiling all the while. “They help me take of her.”

  Isabella looked back. “We should keep Randolph away, then.”

  Even her guard seemed to be letting his guard down somewhat, basking in the harmonious atmosphere. On the outside Valerio’s mansion had seemed practical and cold, but within was a complex arrangement of curiosities that Isabella had never seen before. Just how large was the world, really? How narrow had her perspective been, trapped in this city her whole life?

  “We can stay here for a while if you’d like, but there’s a great deal more to see,” Valerio told her.

  Isabella’s eyes glowed at his words. How many wonders did this mansion hide? She was beyond curious.

  ***

  “Has Princess Isabella been found?” Arthur of Hamore asked.

  Gaspar glanced at the archwizard’s heir upon hearing that name. That was the third time today that he’d been asked about that princess. The first had been Duke Albert, the second Archduke Felix, and now the archwizard’s heir. Gaspar himself had viewed her as the primary suspect that was leaving the palace and wandering about the capital given her frequent outings with the enigmatic Duke of the Isles.

  “She was last seen in the debutante ball for Lady Abigail,” Gaspar said. “But she’s one of twelve royals that are still unaccounted for.”

  Arthur looked unsettled, adjusting his glasses. “Thank you, then.”

  Gaspar watched him walk away curiously, then glanced back down to the list of royal family members that had yet to be found. This coup was bloody business, and an incredibly poor showing for the holy paladins. But… rather than disgraced, people seemed to be celebrating their performance. A new king had risen to the throne. Gaspar thought Claude seemed leagues better than Edgar in character.

  Perhaps things could change. Perhaps Claude would be a king that Gaspar was glad to guard. He was rumored to be open-handed, fair—those were virtues lauded in the Eternal Word. Despite what Pius had told Gaspar, his faith remained firm. If the gods were not watching, Edgar would not have so quickly been brought to justice. Pius, perhaps, had been made cynical serving kings. Perhaps it was Gaspar’s role to guide him back.

  Gaspar cleared his throat, then grabbed a paper, a quill, and some ink. He quickly wrote down an order.

  Closely monitor the estate of the Duke of the Isles. May be keeping Princess Isabella.

  “Aide,” he said, and the man stepped forward. “Deliver this to Rowen as soon as possible.”

  Gaspar stamped the letter with the seal of the knight-commander’s office, then handed it off. The aide nodded, then darted away.

  ***

  “All I can tell you is that she’s still alive,” Arthur’s mother said as they sat in the royal gardens.

  “You said you placed a trace on her so you could find her when it came time to teach,” Arthur said.

  “I did. But wherever she is… my magic can’t pierce too deeply,” Igraine explained. “The trace wasn’t exceptionally sophisticated, however. Her obfuscation would make sense for certain wings of the royal palace, or the estate of a particularly well-off noble. If she were nearby, I could find her, so she’s likely not in the palace.”

  Hearing the last part made him deeply uncomfortable. The thought of her falling into the hands of either Duke Albert or the barbaric Duke of the Isles was a horrifying prospect. He hoped dearly that it was the Archduke Felix that was harboring her until things cooled down.

  “Look at you, getting all worried,” Igraine remarked. “Why do you care about this girl at all?”

  “Guilt, mostly.” He shook his head. “What I did led to the death of Count Faust. I don’t want that to hang over her.”

  “And besides that?” Igraine continued. “You said ‘mostly,’ after all.”

  “Sympathy,” Arthur answered.

  His mother looked at him skeptically. “I’ve seen her face, Arthur. You can be honest. I’m not the archwizard.”

  “Maybe her appearance is influencing me,” he said, trying to be logical and honest. “I just feel like I shouldn’t stand by and do nothing.”

  Igraine sighed, but didn’t say anything one way or another. “Very well. I’ll find her.”

  Arthur looked at her skeptically. “You will?”

  “I did promise to teach her,” she reminded him. “And the longer it takes to start, the lower her chances actually are. I’ll admit, her unexplained absence does make me uncomfortable. The idea of that clever girl trapped in some estate, or in some cordoned wing of the palace… it’s just not tenable to a decent human.”

  Arthur nodded. “I’m glad we’re in agreement.”

  “I’m sure your sisters will love to hear about this,” Igraine continued.

  “Don’t…!” Arthur began, then hung his head. “I can’t be bothered.”

  ***

  Isabella and Valerio had done a full tour of his estate, and now they sat together in the small table on his balcony, both of them looking out to the sea. She’d wanted to try coffee, but he advised against it, claiming it would affect her sleep. She couldn’t recall the last time that she’d been so engrossed in something. This simple tour of his estate was almost enough to forget about the troubles that were all around them.

  “Did you see everything you wanted to?” Valerio asked. “It’s not exactly a conventional estate, I know.”

  “I saw that and more,” Isabella admitted freely, looking at him. “Rahul was every bit as good at cooking as you claimed.”

  “I’m glad,” he said, keeping his eyes on the horizon.

  Isabella peered at him as he watched the distance. Valerio had owned his own ship since he was fifteen, when he inherited his father’s. He’d been sailing for what was essentially his entire life. In a way, he’d lived the opposite life that she had. She’d been in this city for all twenty-five years of her last life, and he’d been roaming the vast world in the twenty-four years of his. He’d collected all manner of things, and spoke of realms foreign, mysterious, and beautiful. The most she’d seen was paintings and artifacts from far-away places. He gave her a glimpse of the world she was missing out on. All of the splendid wonders.

  Isabella wondered how Valerio viewed her. For a man that had seen and done as much as he had, she might be just another curiosity to collect. She didn’t think that was what this was, but she’d simply seen too much of the darkness people could hide to dismiss the possibility outright.

  “I’d like to talk with you tomorrow about my decision,” Isabella broke the silence. “About what I want to do.”

  Valerio looked at her, his expression unreadable. “Alright,” he said simply, not rushing or pressuring her.

  They both watched the sea. After a day of talking, the ambience was nice. She felt relaxed, at ease. At some point, she had come to trust these people around her, even if only just. Was she slipping back into a bad habit, or were things different?