Violie

It takes the better part of an hour of climbing across Hapantoile's rooftops before Violie and Leopold reach the Sororia, its buttresses and steeples stretching higher than any other building in Hapantoile, apart from the palace itself. They make it from the roof of a residential building three stories tall, down to the carriage house pressed between it and the Sororia, but there, they pause, crouching low behind the peak of the carriage house's sloped roof.

Two guards stand outside the Sororia's main entrance, dressed in the empress's colors. Violie would wager there are more at the back entrance, and she doubts they've come to protect the Sisters within. First the Crimson Petal, now this. The empress knew all along, she realizes. She let Daphne plot against her, let her gather allies, waiting and watching until Beatriz arrived and she made her move.

Daphne was bait—something Violie knows better than to ever say to Daphne's face, should she see her again.

"What now?" Leopold whispers to her.

Violie thinks. The guards aren't looking their way—their attention focused on the street in front of the building—and the carriage house is close enough to the second floor of the Sororia that they can crawl through one of the windows. It's only a question of who they'll find on the other side of the window.

"Bairre," Leopold says suddenly, jerking her out of her thoughts. She's confused until she follows Leopold's gaze and notices the Frivian prince crouched behind the carriage house, eyeing the guards, though when he hears his name, he looks up, eyes widening when he sees them. Violie beckons him up and Bairre looks around, confused, before seeing a low fence to the side of the carriage house. He uses that to climb to the top of a gabled window, then leverages himself up to the roof, crouching beside them.

"What are you doing here?" he hisses. "Where's your army?"

"Where's your wife?" Violie volleys back, regretting it when his mouth tightens and he looks away, jaw clenched. Quickly, they catch one another up.

"You don't know where they took Daphne?" Violie asks.

"No, and you haven't seen Beatriz?"

"No," Leopold admits.

"I would bet good money they're in the same place," Violie says, glancing at the palace looming in the distance.

"There's no use barging in without assistance," Bairre says. "I was hoping the Sisters could get a message to you and Beatriz, assuming you were with your armies."

"It would seem the Sisters are preoccupied," Violie says. She tries to think strategically. The guards won't see the Sisters as a threat, but they would want to keep watch over them all the same, which means they'll sequester them in the same place. When she says as much to Bairre, his eyes spark.

"The chapel," he says. "That'll be the largest room. It's on the ground floor, with a glass roof to see the stars through."

An idea takes shape in Violie's mind, and she shares it quickly. When she finishes, both Bairre and Leopold look at her like she's gone mad. Maybe she has.

"Unless either of you has a better idea, we're doing it," she says.

Neither of them speaks for a moment, instead exchanging a look.

"Fine," Leopold says with a grave nod. "I suppose it would be a waste of breath to tell you not to do anything reckless."

"It would," Violie says. "Now give me a boost through the window before we're seen."

Violie lands on the floor of a Sisters' dormitory on silent feet. Crouching below the window, she looks around. Empty, as she suspected. She stands and goes straight to the small, plain wardrobe near the door, opening it and finding three habits hanging neatly. She wastes no time, pulling a dark blue tunic over the dress she's already wearing and securing a wimple so that her hair is covered before adding the headpiece. Then she picks up the glass vase on the end table, holds it high above her head, and smashes it against the wood floor, sending water and cut flowers everywhere.

A shout goes up from somewhere in the Sororia, and Violie hastens to hide—or rather, to pretend to hide. She crouches behind the wardrobe and summons frightened tears that manifest just as the door to the room opens and heavy boots approach.

The guard finds her immediately, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her to stand, ignoring her dramatic sob of pain when he does.

"You said you searched this room, Ren," the guard holding her snaps at a second, who stands in the doorway, looking around in bewilderment.

"I thought I did, sir, but they do all look the same."

"Fool," the first guard says. "Take Peter and search again—thoroughly this time."

"Yes, sir," the guard says, backing out of the room. When the first guard drags Violie down the hall, she sees the second guard, Peter, speaking with a third guard before they set off in the opposite direction, opening a door and slipping inside. That's two down, she thinks as she snivels and cries and begs the guard for mercy.

"Enough," he bites out. "If you can't keep quiet I'll gagyou."

Violie pretends to be cowed by the threat, but really she's paying attention to the halls he pulls her down. No guards here, she notes, but after going down one flight of stairs and around a corner, he opens a large oak door and shoves her inside, into the chapel Bairre described. A large space with a vaulted ceiling made of glass. The dozen pews are filled, Sisters clustered together, not speaking. Some, Violie notices, have their hands bound. Others are gagged, like the guard gripping her arm threatened to do to her. But when her eyes catch her mother's, she realizes it isn't only Sisters gathered, but the courtesans of the Crimson Petal, too.

Relief slices through her at the sight of her mother, alive, but she knows that relief will be temporary if she can't free them.

The guard shoves her into a pew on the other side of the chapel from her mother, beside an elderly sister who glares at the guard and bares her teeth around the gag in her mouth, but the guard ignores her, walking to the front of the chapel to speak with a guard there. In addition to the man who brought her here, there are eight other guards in the chapel.

"Two guards are searching upstairs," she whispers without moving her mouth to the gagged Sister beside her. "How many others have you seen inside?"

The Sister straightens beside Violie, and without looking at her, she grabs hold of Violie's hand, hidden from the guards' view by the pew in front of them, and traces a circle on Violie's palm.

"Zero," Violie infers. "So eleven guards total."

The Sister squeezes her hand, which Violie takes as assent.

Eleven guards, plus two at the front doors, presumably two at the back. Fifteen total. Fifteen armed guards against…forty unarmed women, she counts quickly. Add Violie, Leopold, and Bairre into the equation, all three of them with weapons of some kind, and the odds seem to be in their favor.

There's a loud thud from above and everyone in the chapel looks up to see Leopold land on the glass ceiling in a crouch, peering down at them and lifting his hand in a mocking wave.

Violie gives a scream, as if terrified, and the Sister beside her follows her lead. The rest of the room follows, letting out terrified shrieks and pointing.

"What are you waiting for?" the guard who dragged Violie in shouts to his men—the leader, she presumes. He points to a cluster of five guards standing near the altar. "You lot, stay here and watch them!" he shouts. "The rest of you, seize him—dead or alive."

The head guard leads the men out of the chapel, leaving only five guards—none of whom looks particularly pleased to have been relegated to nannying duty.

Above them, Leopold runs off, but as soon as he's disappeared, a gunshot goes off in the other direction—coming from the rear entrance, Violie knows, and quickly followed by a second.

Bairre has killed both guards there.

The remaining five men exchange panicked looks before one of them draws his sword, making his way down the aisle. "Stay and cower with the women if you want!" he shouts over his shoulder. "I'm going to fight."

Three of the men follow, leaving one behind.

"Surely you can manage a bunch of Sisters and courtesans well enough, Thomas!" one of the guards shouts at him. "Use the pistol if you have to—we don't need to keep them all alive."

It isn't lost on Violie that Thomas is the youngest of the guards, and nervous. He looks around at the chapel and gives a quick nod, keeping his hand on his pistol.

After the four guards go, leaving only Thomas, Violie screams, doubling over and grabbing at her stomach, though really she's grabbing the dagger hidden beneath her tunic.

"Ow, please, I'm hurt!" she shouts, looking at the guard with wide, tear-filled eyes.

After a brief hesitation, the guard comes toward her, his pistol hanging at his side.

"Sister, are you al—"

Violie doesn't give him a chance to finish the sentence. As soon as he's close enough to reach, she lunges up, embedding the dagger in his stomach.

The guard gasps more than screams as he crumples to the ground at her feet. "Hurry!" she shouts to the stunned women watching her. "There is no time to waste—the rest will be back soon. Untie anyone bound, and anything that can be used as a weapon, take with you."

No one hesitates. Violie helps ungag the woman beside her, who looks at her with thoughtful eyes. "I do hope you've thought this through, child," she says.

Violie doesn't answer, instead crouching down to pry the pistol from the dead guard's hand, holding it and her dagger up to the woman. "Do you have a preference, Sister?" she asks.

"Mother," the woman corrects, eyes darting between the weapons. "Mother Ippoline. And I'll take the dagger."

Violie passes it to her, hilt first. "Be careful with it—it's my favorite," she says.

"Violie!"

Violie turns to find herself in her mother's arms, held tightly to her chest. "You foolish, brave girl," her mother chides, punctuating each word with a kiss to Violie's face. "What in the name of the stars were you thinking?"

"She was thinking to save our lives, Avalise," Mother Ippoline says. "Though that does answer my next question about who, exactly, you are."

"We can have more thorough introductions later," Violie says. "Prince Bairre and King Leopold caused those distractions, and I'm not keen on leaving them to defend themselves alone against fourteen guards."

Half the women choose to stay in the chapel to defend against any returning guards rather than attack, but by the time Violie leads the remaining women and their makeshift weapons—mostly heavy brass candlesticks and pointed tapestry rods—down the halls of the Sororia, it's to find that Bairre and Leopold have managed the bulk of the work.

They fight back to back in the Sororia's entryway, only five guards still standing. Four pistols lie on the floor, bullets spent, Violie assumes, and now they fight with swords instead.

Violie lifts her pistol, taking out three of the guards farthest from Leopold and Bairre with three successive shots, and while the final two are distracted by the shots, Leopold and Bairre take their advantage, dispatching them both.

In the quiet aftermath, Violie's eyes search Leopold for wounds and she feels him do the same to her, but neither of them is hurt, to her relief. He comes toward her, not noticing the movement of one of the guards at his feet—the head guard, she realizes belatedly, just as his hand grabs the hilt of his sword.

"Leo!" Violie shouts just as the guard strikes, arching upward in a desperate burst of power, sword aimed at Leopold's chest.

Leopold only just manages to jump back, out of reach of the blade's arc, and the guard falls to the floor again with an anguished cry.

Bairre steps forward, sword poised to finish the man off, but Violie holds up a hand.

"Wait," she says, and Bairre pauses, the tip of his blade at the man's chest, just where his heart is. "He seemed to be the leader. I doubt Margaraux told him much, but he may know something."

Bairre looks down at him. There's a smear of blood on his cheek, she notes, though it doesn't seem to be his. The look on Bairre's face is cold, the set of his mouth hard.

"Well?" he asks the man. "This morning my wife was forced from our bed and taken somewhere against her will. Where?"

The guard glares up at Bairre, matching the coldness in his expression, but it shatters the second Bairre leans on his sword, pressing it into the guard's chest, millimeter by millimeter.

The guard screams. "The catacombs!" he shouts. "The empress had them taken to the catacombs!"

Bairre eases up, looking at Violie, who gives a nod.

"I've been there—twice, both at the empress's command. They're far underground."

"Which means Beatriz won't be able to seek assistance from the stars, even if she does live until nightfall," Mother Ippoline says.

Violie closes her eyes. Beatriz's magic was supposed to be their fail-safe, but even that isn't an option. And the only way to the catacombs is through the palace. She doubts they'll be able to waltz in, especially if the empress has put out an alert for the guards to find them.

Someone clears their throat, drawing attention to the front door, left open to the morning sun. Aurelia stands there, hands clasped in front of her and her ermine cloak draped over her shoulders.

"Nightfall isn't necessary," she says, her impassive eyes sweeping across the room, lingering a moment on Bairre.

"Mother?" Bairre asks, bewildered.

"How can Beatriz wish on a star when no stars are out?" Leopold asks.

"One star is," Aurelia says.

"The sun," Mother Ippoline whispers. "Surely, you can't mean…"

"It has long been prophesized that one day the stars would go dark," Aurelia says. "And I have since come to be sure that Beatriz would cause it. The sun is what gives all other stars their light—should she wish upon it, the stars would in fact go dark."

"And kill us all in the process," Violie says, shaking her head.

"Should another empyrea attempt it, yes," Aurelia says. "But Beatriz's magic will create it again. From what I've observed of her powers, we would be in darkness for a day, perhaps two. An unpleasant time, to be sure, but no. It wouldn't kill us."

"Would it kill Beatriz?" Violie asks.

Aurelia hesitates. "I suspect so," she says. "Though only the stars can say for certain."

"Then no," Leopold says. "We'll find another way."

But Violie suspects there isn't one. And if she's right, the least they can do is give Beatriz the choice.

"The catacombs are far belowground," she says, looking around. "How could we get sunlight in?"

Bairre reaches into his pocket, pulling out a vial of stardust. "Beatriz gave this to Daphne yesterday—it's from the wish she made for the starshower, and she said it was more powerful than any other stardust. Could that get sunlight into the catacombs?" he asks Aurelia.

"I believe so, yes," Aurelia says. "But we would need to know exactly where they are."

"That," one of the Sisters says, stepping forward from the group, "I might be able to help with."

"Empress Seline," Bairre murmurs to Violie, who looks at the woman with surprise.

She didn't know Empress Seline still lived, let alone that she was so close, but she doesn't have time to dwell on that. If anyone will know the inner workings of the palace, it's the woman who once ruled over it.

"What did you have in mind, Your Majesty?" Violie asks.