How Shadows Turn to Ash

Chapter 6: Antonia

Antonia touched her necklace as she curled up in a large armchair, Stories of Second Sons splayed open on her lap. It was the one thing she had managed to take with her before being shoved out of her family's castle. She and her father had read and reread it several times over the past decade. Antonia knew some of the passages by heart. Her family history was something she found sacred in a way she couldn't always explain. A reminder that she was connected to a thousand other people in the past who had faced the trials of life to bring her here.

One day, Antonia would do something just as profound as the rest of them.

"You called for me?"

Antonia almost dropped her book. There was no door to the small nook she was in, only guards stationed by the arched entryway, so she didn't hear the person enter until it was too late. For a moment, she panicked, wondering if someone had discovered something they shouldn't, only to register the voice a moment later.

"Nema," she said, shoulders relaxing. A girl stood in the doorway, dressed in the green silk robes that all the druids wore. Intricate patterns of gold were stitched on the edges, matching the gold woven into auburn hair. "Hi," Antonia said, shutting her book.

Nema grinned at her. It had been Octavia's idea for Nema to defect to the Revolutionaries as a spy months ago. Antonia had been furious at the time, thinking it was her sister's way of sabotaging one of the few honest relationships that Antonia could have, but, as usual, Octavia had been right. Nema was now stationed here with no Revolutionaries suspicious of her true alliance.

"How dare you don't summon me," Nema said, voice firm, but Antonia could see amusement in her eyes. "You're not royalty anymore. I only come as an druid serving the spirits." She gave Antonia a playfully scolding look. "I presume you have a spiritual question for me?"

Antonia bit back a smile. "I have many," she said and got up, holding her book to her chest as if it might still the quickening of her heart. "I hear my uncle has been requesting you visit him. Am I to expect more betrayal?" she asked, trying not to sound as concerned as she was. 

After all, it wasn't like Antonia and her uncle were close by any means. Friedrich had taken little interest in her. According to their mother, he had taken little interest in much of anything after his wife died. It was only when Lucius came around that he had become more than a shadow in their portraits.

But... as strange as it was... Antonia still felt a kinship with her uncle. A tie. A tether. A something. But whatever familial obligation she thought they had for one another, it was clearly wrong. Friedrich had betrayed them, and now Antonia was left to wonder if he'd sway Nema toward betrayal next.

Nema tilted her head, and the knot in Antonia's chest loosened. Nema wouldn't. Nema would never. Not a million years. It felt silly to doubt her as a playful expression crossed Nema's face before she glanced over her shoulder at where the guards stood.

"Walk with me," Nema said, and gestured her out of the nook. A few guards glared at them suspiciously, but when Nema fixed them with a righteous gaze, they bowed their heads.

They took three steps before Nema spoke again.

"They look at your sister differently," she murmured.

Antonia rolled her eyes. "Well, they're all in love with her," she said, glancing over to where Octavia was leaning over the terrace, laughing at something a guard had said. "All she does is flirt with them-"

"That's smart," Nema interrupted. Antonia's mouth snapped shut. "Winning over the guards could mean allies to help you escape. You would be wise to do the same."

The thought almost made Antonia gag. She wasn't good with talking to strangers in general. It made her anxious. There was so much she could say wrong. If she tried to beguile the guards like Octavia, she would probably worsen things.

They passed by where Lucius and Trajan were in an intense game of cards, both making faces at one another as they grabbed from a pile in the center.

Nema's expression softened as she watched them play. "Do you remember what the third scripture of the spirits says?" she asked.

Antonia grimaced. She wasn't the most devout student of religion. With all the time she spent with Nema, she should be, but most of the time, Antonia found herself more focused on the freckles sprinkled over Nema's nose than anything she said about spirits and scripture.

"That... you shouldn't betray the royal family?" Antonia guessed. Nema laughed, but her demeanor changed when they turned into an empty hallway. The grip on Antonia's arm tightened as she was pulled further down, a sense of urgency rising between them.

"That it is honorable to confess when a life must be given to the earth," she whispered. Antonia looked at her blankly. "Friedrich confessed to me this morning, Toni. He wanted me to tell the spirits to expect another to join them."

Fear rose in Antonia's throat. It must have shown on her face because Nema bit her lip before glancing at the end of the corridor. She grabbed Antonia's hands.

"Your father still has supporters. They are still fighting against the Revolutionaries-"

"But my father abdicated."

"They don't care," Nema whispered. "The lords and dukes and other Royalists will lose everything if the monarchy falls. Your father is the one who keeps them rich." Antonia wasn't sure she liked how that was framed, but before she could argue, Nema spoke again. "They will keep fighting unless there is nobody left to support."

Antonia's skin prickled. She grabbed the necklace around her throat, finger pressed into the black pendant. Nema gripped her arms, and a tingle spread against Antonia's skin where Nema's air magic sat in her palms. The pulse of it felt like a breeze racing through her as she took a long breath, licking her lips.

"Octavia says she has a plan."

"She needs to hurry with her plan," Nema said and let go, fingers trailing over Antonia's hands a second too long before turning away. She took three steps before pausing, peering out around the corner, and then circling back to where Antonia was waiting. "You should know that all the lords are Royalists," she added.

Antonia studied her, letting the implication of that settle in.

"All of the lords?" she repeated softly. Nema's brows raised slightly. A guard walked by, halting when he saw them alone. Nema turned back around, muttering something about whiny royals and bratty monarchs. "Let Lord Savoy know that I hope he feels better soon!" Antonia called after her.

Nema gave her a crude gesture over her shoulder as the guard gave a condescending scoff. Antonia pretended to be offended only for a moment before rushing off to find Octavia.