When the first breeze of Spring dawn caressed the Great Valley, it found most windows still shuttered against Winter. The moon was just a thin sliver, but waxing. High in the mountains, the gloomy corridors of the Red House Halls sweltered in the heat of braziers and steam vents, lit mainly by narrow and dusty shafts of sunlight that streamed through crimson stained glass, encrusted with dry vines. There, the nobles of the Great Valley Empire lived like hostages under the vigilant patronage of Empress Aymis le Tyr. It was the 113th year of her reign. All the windows of that moody citadel were battened against the cold, except for one.

  In the sky above the valley hung the derelict fragments of the GVES Heliopause, a skyship which had been destroyed nearly a century earlier. Below, amid fallow fields and cold creeks, mechanical vineyards trundled inexorably. Wolves stalked the pine forests and rabbits hunted for sprouts and bulbs. The common folk, in their tattered coats, plowed their fields and hacked at stumps. They were hunting in the wilderness, while the soldiers sat ensconced in their forts, with the smoke of their fires drifting up through the steely mists.

  The Red Keep was built of red sandstone blocks, quarried in the valley below. A road ran from the gate of this palace all the way down to the Capitol Banks, aside the Great River. Since the road was built from the same red blocks, they called it the Red Road. Somewhere along that road, in the foothills of the mountains, lay the ruins of Brink Stream Castle, where the empire had begun. By that time, Brink Stream was just a town.

  That was where Mell had been born, and she had been searching for it, sitting at the window of her study in one of the Red Keep's towers, on the verge of tears. She had sunk to the floor, which was how Chess had found her. The two women sat together on the carpet, talking. When they were children, they had played games of knights and strategy in that same room. Slowly, it had been converted from a playroom to a schoolroom to a study. Now it felt like a prison. In the Red Houses, there was nothing to do.

  Her proper name was Princess Melles Yeleen. To her friends, she was Lady Mell. She was short and slight, wiry, with a long face and a bitter gaze. Her enemies called her "Princess Jawline" because of her severe expression, or, in hushed tones, just "The Princess." She was not the heir of Empress le Tyr. She was second in line to inherit the Blue Rose Throne, seat of a minor but elegant house. With little ambition and much regret, she felt empowered to act unwisely. Her occasional petty tyranny had spawned a few legends. Aside from these rumors, she had no claim to fame.

  Chess was a knight. Her proper name was Mys Jielle Chesjen, and she was often called Chesje. Compared to Mell, she was tall and doughty, with a simple and serious face. She had been born a peasant, brought up as a handmaid, and later trained to serve as Mell's bodyguard. At all times, she bore with her a sense of stoic duty and gratitude, even as her own sorrows weighed heavily. When they sat together, she knew that Mell valued her reliability and humility. Perhaps they even cared for each other.

  Chess: "Have you been sorrowing again?"

  Mell: "Only slightly. I'm well enough."

  Chess: "Is it your sister? Or your mother?"

  Mell: "I dare say it's the Empress."

  Chess: "Don't."

  Mell: "I mustn't dare, I know."

  Chess: "Would you like to take out your rage..?"

  Mell: "I won't go bother the kitchen staff."

  Chess: "Has it gotten boring?"

  Mell: "Maybe it was always boring."

  Chess: "Very well. As you wish."

  Mell: "It's the scent of Spring, honestly. So cruel. The thought of another Summer..."

  Chess: "You know, you have... you have the right to leave."

  Mell: "On what errand?"

  Chess: "I could help you think of one."

  Mell: "Oh could you? What could keep me away from here, all Summer?"

  Chess: "Perhaps inspecting the fields and frontiers."

  Mell: "Great. Five months of looking at peasants and dung."

  Chess: "You don't have to write a report. You could just go to the hinterlands and ride horses."

  Mell: "They'll call me decadent. And I'll never get married."

  Chess: "Do you care what they call you?"

  Mell: "I'll miss all the dances. And when I come back, I'll be parochial."

  Chess: "It's good for the vigor, to be parochial."

  Mell: "It sounds like you want to ride horses."

  Chess: "I want to ride pegasi, if I may be quite honest."

  Mell: "Well, you haven't convinced me."

  Chess: "It's not my job to convince you of anything. Quite the contrary."

  They sat together for a few moments, until it seemed that Chess was about to stand up and sit in a chair. This filled Mell with a sudden desperation. If she were left alone on the floor, she would be humiliated. Her moment of quiet rebellion would end. Without a solution to her woes, she could not return to her duties. If she stood up or sat properly, she would be forced to think of a proper solution, and therefore she would remain enslaved forever. It was necessary that she think of a plan right there, on the carpet, and she needed Chess' help. Mell took a card out of her pocket and said, "Look at this."

  It was a Quality Card, gold-bordered, with the fields filled in neat red ink. Chess inspected it, turning it over. She said, "Who's this?"

  The card looked like this:

  Family Name Harre Rank 1 Skill Rank

  Personal Name Yelos Class Lancer Lance 2

  Origin Brink Stream Charge Soldier Bow 3

  Birth Date 652, Winter Order/Office Silver Blade Ride 4

  Language 8

  Speed 92 Spirit 81 Strategy 3

  Strength 74 Willpower 73 Math 6

  Endurance 80 Perception 57

  Dexterity 86 Intelligence 86

  Grace 97 Creativity 67

  Mell: "It's me."

  Chess: "Harre Yelos?"

  Mell: "I made it up. It's a man's name."

  Chess: "I know that. But why?"

  Mell: "Women's scores are always inflated. As are nobles."

  Chess: "So you just wanted an honest score?"

  Mell: "I mean... I quit early. During the Skills section. I was afraid they'd catch me."

  Chess: "It's illegal, isn't it? To masquerade as a man?"

  Mell: "Yes. So don't tell anyone."

  Chess: "You took quite a risk..."

  Mell: "I went all the way to Rocky Hill to get tested."

  Chess: "You're proud of yourself."

  Mell: "It was fun."

  Chess: "You mustn't take such risks."

  Mell: "You can't stop me."

  Chess: "That's where you went! ...when you were 'sightseeing' in the east."

  Mell: "I'm sorry I couldn't bring you along."

  Chess: "You could have brought me along."

  Mell: "You're not a great liar."

  Chess grumbled as she took out her own card to compare it with Mell's. Women were allowed to carry Quality Cards, while men were required to. For a lady knight, it was considered a professional responsibility to care for one's stats and skills. Chess' card looked like this:

  Family Name Jielle Rank 11 Skill Rank Skill Rank

  Personal Name Chesjen Class Pegassier Ride 12 Strategy 7

  Origin Jark Charge Knight Fly 19 Leadership 5

  Birth Date 651 Order/Office Blue Rose Armor 15 Wpn. Craft 5

  Lance 17 Music 3

  Speed 71 Spirit 19 Sword 13 Art 4

  Strength 67 Willpower 31 Bow 15 Cooking 2

  Endurance 84 Perception 61 Heal 16

  Dexterity 79 Intelligence 58 Language 7

  Grace 47 Creativity 57 Magic 6

  Chess had served two years in the Aicortitz Mountains, after the end of the Windelle War. She had been theoretically just a peacekeeper, but there was a lot of guerilla combat in those days. In fact, Chess had seen so much combat that Mell had begin to suspect that someone was pulling the strings, trying to get her killed. Mell didn't want to look at Chess' card. She knew what it said, and she knew that Chess was sensitive about some of the lower numbers. Chess, for her part, couldn't refrain from mentioning it.

  Chess: "I don't know how you got these stats."

  Mell: "But look at my skills!"

  Chess: "Yeah, yeah, we'll get to that. But... 97 Grace? How is that even possible?"

  Mell: "I've always loved dancing..."

  Chess: "They should have put you on the front lines..."

  Mell: "They'd never let me fight."

  Chess: "They let your sister fight."

  Mell: "They let her command. It's different. She sat on the bridge of an airship and told them what to bomb."

  Chess: "Well, you could have done that. 86 Intelligence..."

  Mell: "It never interested me..."

  Chess: "Anyway, don't feel bad about your skills. You said yourself, you quit early. I guess you didn't want to test Magic..."

  Mell: "How would a man get 15 Lightning?"

  Chess: "You think you'd only get 15?"

  Mell: "I'd rather not know. Magic is born from mystery, anyway."

  At that moment, the door creaked and swung open. Mell's sister stood there smirking. Her name was Yaera. She was a little taller and stronger, with a commanding presence. She was supposed to be very beautiful and intimidating. Of the two of them, people seemed more afraid of Mell, but only because she had a bad reputation. Yaera had the type of domineering confidence that comes from years of abstract authority. She advanced quickly, shoving Mell aside, and snatched the cards from Chess. Then she turned around and plopped into a chair to review them at her leisure. She furrowed her brow in amusement, like she was reading bad poetry.

  Mell and Chess both stood up, on the verge of action, but Yaera's slouch somehow became even more relaxed.

  Yaera: "74 Strength... 57 Perception... 86 Intelligence... I always knew you would never equal me."

  Mell: "Give it back."

  Yaera: "Oh, let me learn something about my family. You talk to me so rarely..."

  Mell: "I wonder why."

  Yaera: "But your knight here... 19 Spirit? We really must replace her. I'll talk to mother..."

  Mell: "Don't!"

  Yaera: "Oh, that's right. It's illegal, isn't it? False identity..."

  Chess: "Mell..."

  Yaera: "Yes, I was eavesdropping. And your knight is party to the conspiracy..."

  Mell: "She didn't help."

  Yaera: "Can't have people thinking we're above the law."

  Mell: "Are you threatening us?"

  Yaera: "Someone has to take the fall."

  Mell: "You don't have to tell anyone."

  Yaera: "But I really should. It's my responsibility."

  Mell: "Please."

  Yaera: "I like it when you beg."

  Mell: "I'm not begging."

  Yaera: "That's a shame. If you were, I might consider your point of view."

  Mell: "Yaera, please."

  Yaera: "Please, please, please. That doesn't cut it."

  Mell: "What is wrong with you?"

  Yaera: "Let's keep it civil. I'm bored, that's all. Political life doesn't suit me."

  Mell: "You're rather be bombing civilians?"

  Yaera: "You keep digging yourself deeper. Let's talk later. After I speak with mother."

  Mell: "No! I'll-"

  Yaera: "Oh? You'll...?"

  Mell: "Whatever you want."

  Yaera: "Say it again."

  Mell: "I'll give you whatever you want."

  Yaera: "All right. Fine. That's a good deal. I'll keep this one secret for you…"

  Mell: "...and...?"

  Yaera: "And you'll do me a favor... of my choosing... later. Whatever I want."

  Mell: "You'll decide later?"

  Yaera: "I think that's fair."

  Mell: "Fair!?"

  Yaera: "This will weigh heavily on my conscience. A corruption of the Empire, which I love so dearly."

  Mell: "You..."

  Yaera: "Best remain polite, sister."

  Mell: "Fine. Is that all?"

  Yaera: "I suppose so. I'd better get going. There's a nasty smell in the air."

  She glared at Chess as she said that. When she handed the cards back to Mell, she added, "For your own safety, you should really find a better guard. Someone who can use magic, at least. Since apparently you can't." Mell gritted her teeth. She wasn't about to tell Yaera that she had avoided testing magic on purpose. Instead, she just grunted like a beast. Yaera left without ceremony, waving her hand vaguely, singing, "I'll pray for you."

  Mell closed the door firmly, then walked to the window and sat on the bench there. She took a deep breath, tasting the breeze. Chess stood by the door with her arms crossed, staring darkly at the floor.

  Chess: "Does she really think you can't use magic?"

  Mell: "Of course she knows I can use magic! She was just trying to provoke me. She's always been like this. I think she's looking for a fight. She needs some kind of scheme to occupy her time... until she can convince the Empress to invade another country."

  Chess: "That shouldn't be hard."

  Mell: "Watch your tongue. By the way, she only said those things about you because she knows you can't defend yourself."

  Chess: "I know. She was just trying to provoke you."

  Mell: "She knows it makes me mad..."

  Chess: "Are you becoming righteous, these days?"

  Mell: "She's only doing it to annoy me. That's what bothers me."

  Chess: "Ah, good. I was worried you'd become concerned for me."

  Mell: "I haven't lost my objectivity. But I recognize a threat when I see it. Do you think I'd let her select my retinue? Because that's the next step, if she manages to get rid of you."

  Chess: "I see."

  Mell: "Anyway, I can't brood about this all day. I have to do something useful."

  Chess: "Perhaps some fresh air would help?"

  Mell: "You want to go riding?"

  Chess: "I'm in the mood to hunt, myself."

  Mell: "You know I don't hunt."

  Chess: "You could watch."

  Mell: "Let's just go riding."

  Chess: "Shall I inform the stables?"

  Mell: "Let's go together."

  Mell dressed carelessly in riding boots and a split dress. She took a short bow, a sword, and a sketchbook. Chess, wearing pants, half-plate armor, and a sword of her own, was already prepared. She took her spear up from where it lay against the wall. They walked the halls with a grim fury, scattering servants. The butler asked, "Will you take lunch before you leave?"

  Mell told him, "We'll eat when we return." She wanted to be hungry. Somehow, the desperation of survival always cleared her mind. She wanted to be attacked by wolves, deep in the woods. She wanted to fight a bear, without magic.

  When they crossed the courtyard, Yaera was still nowhere to be seen. It was grassy, in those days, bordered by blue rose bushes and red climbing ivy. Years ago, during the war, the courtyard had been a muddy pit, suitable only for sparring soldiers. Despite her impatience, Mell walked carefully, with stately pace, on the neat gravel paths.

  The stable was dusty and dim. In the corner, with a shaft of sunlight falling on his lap, a young man lounged on a hay-bale. He wore the Red Vine jacket, livery of an outdoor servant. With a focused expression, he was scribbling something in a leather-bound notebook. Mell stood in the center of the room and put her hands on her hips.

  Mell: "Excuse me!"

  The man stood. He lumbered up slowly, burly and sullen.

  Mell: "What is your name?"

  He said, "Groeffe, Madame. Moeken Groeffe. Yes, I'm new."

  Mell: "Moeken? Show me your card."

  He nodded and approached her, taking the card out of his jacket pocket and handing it to her. It looked like this:

  Family Name Moeken Rank 2 Skill Rank

  Personal Name Groeffe Class Groom Animal Care 7

  Origin Jark Charge Servant Woodcutting 3

  Birth Date 651, Spring Order/Office Red Vine Language 5

  Hunting2

  Speed 67 Spirit 52 Construction 3

  Strength 83 Willpower 65 Toolcraft 3

  Endurance 90 Perception 86 Riding 7

  Dexterity 71 Intelligence 67 Herbalism 4

  Grace 43 Creativity 56 Trapping 2

  Mell inspected it slowly, then rolled her eyes. She handed it to Chess, who inspected it without interest. Moeken put his hands in his pockets and turned his gaze down, until Chess returned the card to him.

  Mell: "Chess, you're from Jark, aren't you?"

  Chess: "I am."

  Mell: "Do you know this man?"

  Chess: "I don't. He's probably from the woods."

  Mell: "Well, never mind. Young man, please prepare us two horses."

  Moeken: "As you wish. Do you have a preference?"

  Mell: "For myself, Chester. For my knight... Cascade, right?"

  Chess: "Yes, he's my favorite."

  Moeken bowed and got to work. He kept a distance from the two women, unsure of their rank. He made a respectful display of anxiety, fumbling urgently with his ropes. Mell took the opportunity to ask a question that been slowly growing in the back of her mind.

  Mell: "What were you doing, when we came in?"

  Moeken: "I was drawing, Ma'am."

  Mell: "Drawing what?"

  Moeken: "Well, nothing, really."

  Mell: "Nothing? Answer the question."

  Moeken: "Really, nothing! Just... lines and circles!"

  Mell: "Show me."

  He dropped the lead and closed the door of Chester's stall, then took the journal out from his pocket and showed it to her. She leafed through it. The first few pages were filled with complex abstract geometries, swirling arcs and radiating lines. It had all been drawn freehand, in neat, precise pencil. Mell shook her head and returned the book. Moeken sighed and turned away from her, eagerly getting back to work.

  Mell: "Seems a strange thing to draw."

  Moeken: "It relaxes me. I'm not good at drawing portraits or landscapes anyway."

  Mell: "And you can afford the paper?"

  Moeken: "I'm paid well enough. And I have no family."

  Mell: "I suppose you prefer drawing over working?"

  Moeken: "Well, I'm finished. I mean, I was."

  Mell: "Were you?"

  Moeken: "The horses are fed and brushed. The stable is clean."

  Mell: "I'm sure you could find something useful to do."

  Moeken: "As you wish, Ma'am."

  Mell: "Don't laze around in your livery. Wait until you retire for the evening."

  Moeken: "As you wish, Ma'am."

  Mell: "Is that all you can say?"

  Moeken: "Sorry, Madame."

  Mell: "Who do you report to? Wait. Never mind. I don't care. Just... try to look sharp. Please."

  Moeken: "As you wish. I mean, I'll do my best. Madame."

  By that time, he had finished saddling the horses. Chester was a nut-brown mare, while Cascade was a white stallion. Chess took her horse out the door. As Mell took the reins from Moeken, she said, in parting, "And the stable is not clean."

  They rode through the gate of the castle, down across the moat, and around up into the high valley, along narrow dirt paths into the hunting groves. As they slowed, in deference to the low-hanging branches of gnarled pines, Mell remarked, "I don't know what it takes to find decent service. I think our men aren't suited for it."

  Chess: "He seemed sweet."

  Mell: "I think I want to destroy his life."

  Chess: "Of course you do..."

  Mell: "I want to ruin him."

  Chess: "What if he makes you better?"

  Mell: "I'm willing to take the risk."

  When they broke into the fields, Mell started into a gallop at once. Chess, at a canter, followed casually behind, letting her ride off alone. The ground was still half-frozen, crunching under hoof. The steam of the horses' breath mingled with mists laying low over the dry grasses. A few ravens took flight.