Gretchen prepared my bath. Rose petals floated on the surface, the smell of lavender spread through the marble-tiled bathroom. Heat rose from the water; it reminded me too much of Soterios’s fire to fully enjoy it. The air was humid and thick, so unlike anything I’ve experienced in the north.

Washing away the dirt from my hair and my body felt like erasing all evidence of this journey, and despite appreciating being clean, I regretted having nothing left from the journey.

Gretchen helped me get dressed, despite my protests. She did not know how to behave around me. I was a handful before, but I was a stranger to her now.

The maid held my lingerie while I dried my hair, “Your Grace, the servants were all very worried. We did not know what happened to you and we’re eager to replace out. Forgive me if this is too intruding, but will you tell us?”

I stared in the mirror and realised it’s been months since I’ve last seen my expression. The change was in the eyes. The hazel colour deepened, darkened. The corners were sharper, edgier. It must be what happened to the eyes of those who have gazed at death.

“Why not?” I let out a laugh. “I’ve seen a dragon, you know?”

Gretchen’s gentle eyes widened, “A dragon, your Grace? That’s terrible and frightening! Are you alright? How have you managed to escape?”

“No, he was helpful.” I shook my head and laughed. “He had hands! And he’s very rich. It’s a funny story, actually. Nick stole from the bank some time ago, and it turned out the dragon owned the bank-”

Gretchen’s eyes simmered with fear and I stopped.

“That’s terrible, your Grace! Simply awful.” The maid stepped away. “It would be best if you wouldn’t tell the stories, lest you frighten the servants.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat, “It was alright.”

I couldn’t tell her anything. In her mind, I’ve travelled across the world with dangerous men, shadowmen, florans, giants, mages. I’ve faced unimaginable danger and survived. Gretchen didn’t want to hear it; she wanted to pamper me and make sure I was alright.

How could I ever tell her I’ve never felt worse than when I returned to Irenwell?

“Your Grace...” She whispered as I put on the lingerie, which now felt tight and constraining. “What about your... the curse of... your magic?”

Right. The reason I went to the north in the first place.

I sighed and forced a smile to my lips, “It’s gone, don’t worry.”

“Oh, thank Goddess!” Gretchen squealed. “Some good news at last!”

The smile was too painful to remain on my face.

I put on the light purple dress-

It didn’t fit.

The dress didn’t fit.

Tears gathered in the corners of my eyes as I stared at the too-tight fabric. The maid quickly fetched another dress, but the peach-coloured one was too small, too. Tears fell down my cheeks silently, burning the back of my throat.

“They don’t fit.” I whispered. “None of them fit.”

“Do not fret, your Grace.” Gretchen’s small laugh was strained. “You’ve gained some muscle on your arms and legs, but do not worry, it will go away quickly. Once you’re relaxed.”

The maid found a looser, light green dress, but I shook my head.

“I’ll put on pants.” I said. “Wash them for me, will you?”

“But... your Grace?”

“The pants will fit.” My voice was firm.

Gretchen bowed her head, “You must be starving, your Grace. You should join King Rodrig in the dining hall, the dinner will soon be ready.”

“Is there boar?” I faced the maid.

“Oh, I’m afraid not, your Grace.” Gretchen seemed confused. “But there’s pork and chicken, and fresh fruits and vegetables, and-”

“I think I’ll go to sleep.” I cut in. “I’m tired.”

The maid kept quiet for a moment, then nodded, “Of course. I will prepare your chambers.”

Gretchen prepared the chambers while I waited in the plush armchair. My dresses didn’t fit anymore, how fucking apt. And I couldn’t imagine eating anything other than boar. My mind constantly returned to Nick, Danilo, Rixen, and even Ace.

Where were they? Has Danilo reached Bastia? How did King Bernard react? Where were Rixen and Ace? Were they still stuck in Orathia, unable to reach the Middle Continent?

“Princess Irina,” Gretchen called, “Your bed is ready.”

“Thank you.” I looked over the purple-sheeted, double bed. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Gretchen walked over to the balcony door, pulled the curtains over the windows, and screamed.

I jumped up, rushing to her side, “What? What?”

“A- a spider!” The maid shouted and rushed inside. “A huge spider is on the balcony, your Grace. You best stay inside. Someone will kill it for you.”

Warmth spread through my body, tears fell down my cheeks, “Wait, wait!”

The maid’s confused gaze settled on me, “Your Grace...”

I approached the balcony and sure enough, a large, hairy spider rested on the stone fence, all eight eyes looking up at me gently.

“Amelia?” I gulped the tears.

The spider tilted her head.

“Princess Irina...”

My eyes were still on the spider, “Goddess, did you travel here all the way from Bastia?”

The spider let out a strange, small sound.

“This is Amelia.” I faced Gretchen. “I named her, so now she’s following me. She will not be harmed.”

Gretchen did not know what to say. Eyes wide, mouth open, she retreated to the chambers, whispering a prayer. The maid left the room, leaving me alone with the spider.

“You can come in if you want.” I glanced at the spider. “But you will not sleep in my bed.”

The spider’s head bowed, as if nodding.

I crawled to my bed and closed my eyes.

But sleep did not come. I twisted and turned, pulling the covers off, switching the pillow side, but nothing helped. The Irenwell heat was unbearable, even as the night fell completely and the darkness devoured the room. The mattress was uncomfortable, the fabric glued to my sweaty skin itched. My body yearned for the cool northern nights and the hard ground underneath my back.

Grunting, I stood up and opened the balcony door. There, in the fresh air, I sat on the floor, appreciating the coolness of the stone.

Amelia sat next to me, not making a sound.

I choked on my tears, pain tightened my chest, and in the dead of the night, I blubbered and whimpered, staring up into the skies and the small, distant Orathian Sun. Amelia climbed up my leg and for the first time, I didn’t stop her. The spider understood.

I cried all through the night about everything that’s happened. Images flashed before my eyes; Torvald’s last words, the sinking of the city of Orathia, the burning of the town of Dahn, Rixen’s eyes under the light of the pale moon.

As the dawn broke, my eyelids fluttered and closed, and I fell asleep on the stony floor of my balcony. The last image that flashed before my eyes before exhaustion overwhelmed me was the black card, with nothing but a pile of rocks in the middle.

Six of Ruin, the Gyorg seer had said months ago in the Bordering City, that was the name of the card.

Before your journey ends, everything you’ve ever known will crumble and shatter to its most basic elements.

The home I’ve yearned for, the home I missed so much, the home I was so reluctant to leave wasn’t my home anymore. I did not belong here.

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