Chioni braced herself. She was heir to Tessera’s throne, daughter of the indomitable queen. She had faced worse.

  So why was her stomach churning this badly at the thought of speaking to Dilitirio? Merely speaking to her. If this went well, there wouldn’t even be a fight.

  Chioni would have preferred a fight, actually. She would have preferred it if Dilitirio attacked her the second she spotted her. Instead, she was standing on the ground watching the girl stuff cookies into her mouth, perched way up high on a ceiling beam.

  Dilitirio was practically flaunting it at this point.

  She’d seen her — Statheros, she’d seen her — scaling the palace walls like it was nothing, vaulting herself across the rooftops. Chioni didn’t understand. She’d been preparing her entire life to accept the Service Stone, and her mastery of it was crude at best. And here came Dilitirio, waltzing in on a whim, using her stone with such ease. All the drills and duels she’d done, all the training she’d endured for the discipline that would help her succeed — how had Dilitirio surpassed her with none of that?

  It took Dilitirio a considerable amount of time to notice Chioni standing there. Or perhaps she’d noticed a while ago, and had decided to continue shoving cookies in her mouth rather than engaging in polite conversation. There were crumbs stuck to the side of her face. She looked rather like a pleased chipmunk as she looked over the beam at Chioni.

  “Dilitirio,” Chioni said.

  Dilitirio waved cheerfully back. “I was wondering when you’d come calling.”

  Confirmation, then. There were schemes afoot. “What trickery have you planned?”

  “You wouldn’t know. It’s a secret.”

  “So you have cursed me.”

  “No, dummy. But there may be pranks in store.” She smiled, propping her chin up on both hands and kicking her feet in the air. “You look awfully small down there.”

  “Why don’t you join me on the ground?” Chioni asked, struggling to remain a semblance of pleasantry.

  Dilitirio laughed, a laugh like spring rain on parched ground. “Why don’t you join me up here, hm?”

  “Don’t be absurd.”

  “I got here easily enough. I’m sure you can manage.”

  Chioni shut her eyes momentarily, steeled herself. Through gritted teeth, she said, “You seem to have quite a good grasp on Freedom’s powers.”

  “Aw, princess, I’m flattered.”

  “I was . . . wondering,” Chioni said, stiffly, “if you could explain to me how you . . . use your stone.”

  Dilitirio blinked, her mouth dropping open. She sat up, the look on her face far too delighted. “What’s this? The princess of Tessera asking for my advice?”

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  Chioni nearly turned around and marched away right then and there. “Ugh, I knew you’d be insufferable about it —”

  “Princess Chioni? Princess Chioni Eridani Epsilon thinks I know something worthwhile?” She whistled. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

  Chioni rolled her eyes. She suspected Dilitirio had plenty of worthwhile information — on Aconite’s plans, on her secrets. But that conversation always resulted in heated words and near-fights. Which was another reason she was doing this — honestly, she had every reason in the world to attempt civility with Dilitirio. Why did the other girl have to make it so difficult?

  “Here’s my secret, then,” Dilitirio said, hopping off the ceiling beam. She landed close — too close, a foot away from Chioni. Her eyes sparkled with mischief.

  Chioni found herself leaning in to listen, her interest piqued. If she could get one bit of information here, then it would be worth the —

  “I’m special.”

  “What?!”

  Dilitirio shrugged. “The stone loves me. As it should. That’s all there is to it.”

  “That — that can’t be it,” Chioni insisted. “You must have some sort of trick, or —”

  “I’m not ‘magically manipulating’ it,” Dilitirio huffed, making air quotes with her fingers.

  “Still, you must have practiced. There must be a tactic to it.”

  “It’s not a battle, princess.”

  Then why did it feel like one? A constant tug-of-war with the stone, constantly pleading with it, constantly fighting to wrangle it under control, constantly praying for its mercy.

  “Just stop thinking about it,” Dilitirio said. “You’re obsessing.”

  “I am not obsessing,” Chioni shot back. “Working with a legacy gem — it requires effort and work. You need to train your body and your mind. We can’t all just wing it.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Works great for me.”

  Chioni cursed under her breath. “Of course it does,” she muttered. “You’ve never worked for anything a day in your life, have you —”

  “So many assumptions, princess,” Dilitirio laughed. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were projecting.”

  “That makes no sense.” She’d labored for years. She’d been born into her role.

  “Trust me, darling, I’ve worked harder than you,” the enchantress’ daughter said. She was so infuriatingly condescending.

  “Oh, do you,” Chioni countered. “Lazing in the palace all day, skipping your classes — refusing to do the bare minimum of what we’ve asked —”

  “You’ve been in a palace all your life,” Dilitirio hissed, jabbing a finger towards her. “I bet you haven’t gone hungry a single day.”

  Chioni stiffened. “You don’t know anything about my life.”

  “Then explain it to me!” Dilitirio said, throwing her arms wide.

  Chioni’s surprise left her without response. Dilitirio crossed her arms, lips pursed in a pout. They’d avoided each other an entire month. They were natural enemies, and both knew it – this was an inherited feud, one they’d have to answer for. What was this?

  She isn’t serious, Chioni told herself. Dilitirio was doing the same thing she was; digging for information. Anything Chioni told her would only reveal her own weaknesses. How she’d gotten here, how she’d become who she was, gained the strength she needed — through blood, through tears, through sweat. The weak little girl she’d been before, delusional with hopes of . . .

  Dilitirio’s arms dropped to her sides. “Well?” she asked.

  “This . . . this was a mistake,” Chioni blurted, turning away. She pulled the collar of her coat up. “Forget it.”