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    Oh shit, I can’t pretend to be Annali to her actual family. And these people—all Altareans—would surely have known Annali well enough.


    I have to get away from here. She thought with panic.


    “Dear cousin,” she smiled, but it felt strained on her and she hoped it came across as welcoming. She bowed slightly not even entirely sure how Keiran highborn addressed their own family. Aden had done a wonderful job schooling her in Reldoni practises, and that was because he thought she knew nothing of Reldoni people. He never would have assumed she needed knowledge of how Keiran highborn acted.


    “Your cousin?” Melina said, “how delightful!”


    “Daurond Jahar, a pleasure, my lady,” he said with a large smile, his teeth were brilliantly white, stark against his coffee skin. His accent was thick with Keiran notes. Melina introduced herself courteously and Daurond turned to address the group of Altareans with him.


    “Annali and I have always been quite close, isn’t that right, my dear?”


    Oh shit, shit, shit.


    “Yes, of course,” she said, simply nodding, her eyes flicking around the nobles for any kind of recognition. None of them Reldoni… let alone other bloodshedders.


    “I have been caring for my sweet cousin since she arrived here,” he said, still smiling to the small group of Altarean nobles, “it has been such a delight to have her close with me again. It was a sad sad day when she left our home in Keiran to marry the honourable Reselas… but alas I knew that she was making the right choice for herself and for her family. I never would have thought it would be here in a Reldoni city that we would find eachother again.” The Altareans seemed moved by the man’s words and Femira tried to hide her surprise.


    Caring for me since I arrived? He gave her a slight wink. His enormous bright smile was unwavering but Femira spotted that he was sweating.


    Was he nervous?


    A thought struck her; was he another of Garld’s other imposters? Does Garld even have other imposters? Of course he would, Femira realised. And then with a sense of bemused irony, she realised that this ‘Daurond’ probably didn’t even know that she was an imposter. From what she could gather only Garld knew the truth.


    “Thank you, dear cousin,” Femira said in Keiran dialect, emphasising the word ‘cousin’. She had been wary of speaking her native tongue—she hadn’t lived in Keiran for long and wasn’t sure how highborn folk talked—so she assumed her accent would be off. His smile deepened, visibly reassured, “Lady Annali has quickly adapted to the Reldoni ways, she is already excelling in her bloodshedder training.”


    “You’ve been training with them?” one of the Altarean highborn asked, aghast.


    “Yes,” Femira replied, matching Daurond’s wide welcoming smile, “The Reldoni have been very accommodating… Prince Landryn only strives for peace. My understanding is that more of the Altarean highborn will be offered the choice to join with the Reldoni forces.” Again, she was unsure why she was reciting the words Garld had fed to her or why a deep part of her still wanting to prove herself to him.


    Some of the Altareans looked confused, others made poor attempts to conceal their disapproval.


    “Prince Landryn strives for peace,” an elderly Altarean gentleman in the group scoffed. He had pointed grey beard and Femira did not recognise him, “a peaceful man does not send warships to claim a palace and pilfer their wealth… and now as further insult to this, our newly appointed Highlord Ingel claims that our remaining stormguards will be indoctrinated into this warrior cult.”


    “The bloodshedders are a formidable force,” Femira replied, “they rival even the Honorswords of my homeland in skill. The stormguards will be a welcome addition in their ranks, I am sure.”


    “My stormguards were the most elite force in the world,” he said sternly.


    “Exactly,” Femira responded, remembering the fierce authority that Annali had spoken with when she had seen her in Altarea, she added an edge to her tone, “they were. I was there at the siege or have you forgotten?”


    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    “Of cou—”


    “—I was there when they killed my husband… He was weak and he failed to protect us,” the group of Altareans gave her collectively appalled looks.


    “We were lucky,” she continued, a little off-script from what Garld had instructed her but she was enjoying the ride of Annali’s anger in her, “…lucky that the Reldoni did not intend to crush us, to murder us all and enslave our children. They are offering us a gift and you are too blind to see it.”


    “Annali,” Melina gasped, “you cannot mean this?” Even Daurond was looking at her dumbfounded, Garld’s instructions had been to gently prod the Altarean highborn towards supporting the treaty, but Femira had never been very good at the gentle approach.


    “You can all choose to resist the treaty,” she said coolly, “but we have the chance to reach for real power and it’s foolish to ignore that.”


    “The Reldoni have certainly rubbed off on you,” Daurond said, recovering his too-white smile, “I must say I like this change in you… This fierceness.”


    He turned back to the group of Altareans, “What of the Keiran, Daurond?” The elderly Altarean asked, “We waited for weeks as the Reldoni sailed to our city for the Keirans to join us in fighting off the Reldoni, where were your kin when our sons and daughters were being shot down from the sky?”


    “Keiran does not wish to have open war against the Reldoni,” Daurond replied, appeasingly, “and we cannot argue against King Abhran’s claim on Altarea.”


    “Hogwash!” he retorted. Ooh pulling out the foul language, not very gentlemanly-like of you.


    “The Solodans have been ruling in Altarea for half a century!”


    “And they will continue to do so,” Femira chided, “when my nephew comes of age, he will be offered a seat on the ruling council of Altarea.” Despite enjoying the rise she was getting out of the Altareans, she did have an urge to separate herself from this discussion. However, she needed to find a way to pull Melina with her. The woman presented an opportunity to escape the Reldoni but at the same time she didn’t want to risk undermining Garld’s objectives. If she was going to get away, she would need to do it discreetly, and difficult for Garld to track her.


    But where will I even go?


    “If you wish to discuss this directly with Prince Landryn, my lord,” Daurond said, “he is right over there,” He indicated towards the tall dark haired man striding through the feasting hall. Femira hadn’t noticed him amongst the crowds, he was dressed in a formal Reldoni military uniform with slight gold threaded trim. Command clung to him as tight as his form fitting uniform. Unlike other military types, he didn’t wear any decorative armour embellishments, only a dark blade sheathed at his hip.


    “No,” the elderly gentleman dismissed, stroking his pointed beard.


    All the man’s previous puffed up arrogance faded at the sight of the Reldoni Prince. The other Altareans seemed to be hanging on to him, awaiting his reaction before committing to their own. His attire was militarian in style, blue like the stormguards of the Altarean palace. He was likely some former Commander or General in the last forgotten shred of the fallen Altarean government. “I will take up the matter directly with King Abhran himself,” he said haughtily, “do you know when he will be arriving?”


    “I do not… but I am sure it will be soon,” Daurond soothed, “come… allow me to introduce you to some more of Reldoni highborn that have been striving for an end to the conflict.”


    The Altareans bowed to Femira—Annali—as they were shepherded away from her by Daurond. Only Melina and one of the other Altareans lingered behind.


    “Annali, what is happening to you?” Melina asked once they’d left.


    “Perhaps you should go with the others Lady Melina,” the other Altarean said, “I think it would be wise to stay with the group this evening,” he was also an older military-styled man but not nearly as decrepit as the man with the pointed beard. He looked familiar but Femira couldn’t place him, he wore the blue stormguards uniform, tiny gilded wings decorating the decorative shoulder pauldrons and an ornamental sword at his hip. “Captain Darza,” Melina said with distaste, “you’re practically a Reldoni yourself at this stage.”


    “Please, my lady. I have some matters I wish to discuss with Lady Annali,” he said.


    “Anything you wish to say to me, Captain Darza, you can say to Melina,” Femia said.


    “Trust me, Annali. This is a private conversation regarding your family.” His emphasis on the name gave Femira pause; she actively resisted the urge to run.


    He knows.


    Femira felt her eyes widen as she recalled how she knew the man. He had been there when the real Annali had been taken away… when she’d been caught inside the Altarean palace. She nodded to Melina, “it’s fine, Melina. I will find you.” Melina reluctantly departed, rushing to catch up with Daurond’s group.


    “Your cousin Daurond does an even poorer attempt than you in pretending that this isn’t all some Reldoni farce to keep the Altarean highborn from resisting,” he said, looking at the group being directed by the enigmatic man, “but at least he’s actually the real Daurond Jahar.”


    Femira felt restricted in her dress. She had a dagger in a leg sheath, could she reach it before he drew his sword?


    And do what? Attack him right here in the middle of the feast? He hadn’t exposed her yet, he could have done so at any stage, so why hold off? Was he not fully sure yet?


    “Captain Darza, was it?” she asked, trying to make herself sound haughty, “what is this family matter you wished to speak to me of?”


    He gave her a pointed look, “You’re not very good at this, Femira.”


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