A few hours had passed since the ceremony, the thunderous cheers of the Befredon elven nobles still echoing like a distant vibration through the upper rings of the World Tree. Desperate to escape the heavy, suffocating atmosphere of the royal sector and the daunting reality of my sudden public engagement, I had slipped out of my resplendent purple gown. Dressed once more in my clean, deep-green leather ranger tunic, I walked the cobblestone streets of the capital metropolis, flanked closely by Talestia and Freya.
The bustling market lanes fanned out around us in a vibrant display of druidic craftsmanship, but my feet moved on pure biological autopilot, navigating a familiar cobblestone corner until a warm, yeast-heavy, and caramelized aroma hit my senses like a heat-seeking missile.
We came across the quaint, cozy bakery nestled beneath a massive canopy root, its swinging wooden sign carved with glowing, low-grade druidic runes that emitted a faint, comforting heat. Standing right behind the open-air wooden display counter was the shop's owner, Jasmen. She was a Befredon elf with the signature sharp, elegant facial features of our people, but her lineage was beautifully mixed with striking feline traits. A pair of soft, fluffy gray cat ears twitched contentedly through her long hair, a matching thick gray cat tail swayed slowly behind her apron strings, and her delightfully pleasant, slightly chubby frame radiated grandmotherly warmth.
The moment her slitted golden eyes locked onto my small frame, her dimpled face lit up with a wide, glowing grin, her gray tail giving a cheerful, welcoming flick.
"Well, hello there, little missy!" Jasmen cooed warmly, her gray tail giving a delighted swish. "You look like you've walked a long way down from the upper loops today! And you brought your friends! Come, let me offer you all a fresh morning treat!"
She reached down into a steaming grown-cedar tray, using a pair of wooden tongs to lift three massive, perfectly golden pastries, each absolutely glistening under a thick, decadent layer of maple frosting. Beside them rested a classic, sweet donut-like treat that my friends instantly eyed with hunger.
We finished our pastries, the rich, nutty savory sweetness of the sweet cricket paste completely subsiding the hollow ache in my chest. Reaching into the inner pocket of my green ranger tunic, I pulled out six silver pieces to settle the ledger for my three maple buns and the treats my friends had devoured.
I extended my hand to press the coins onto the open-air wooden counter.
"No need, Kirra," Jasmen replied smoothly, gently pushing my hand back before we could step away. Her fluffy gray cat ears twitched with absolute pride, her thick gray tail swishing cheerfully beneath her apron strings. "I get to tell the entire marketplace that I cater to the royal family. That is worth way more than your silver coins. You and your friends can eat here anytime you want."
"Thank you very much for the hospitality, Jasmen," I spoke, my voice dropping into its flat, deadpan clarity as I carefully slipped the six silver pieces back into my pocket.
I locked my face into a completely flat, stubborn look, staring intently at the remaining half of my maple bun to avoid Talestia's calculating amber gaze.
"I really don't want to get married," I replied, my voice dropping into its typical, unblinking clarity as my snow-white owl ears gave a small, defensive twitch. "And he makes me feel weird every single time he's near. It makes my heart all jittery. I don't like it."
Talestia almost choked on her pastry, a loud, unrefined snort escaping her throat as her armadillo ears flared forward in pure amusement. Beside her, Freya let out a soft, giggling bird sound, her long white rabbit ears fluttering frantically against her sky-blue hair as she stubbornly hid her blushing face behind her leather notebook. Even Jasmen leaned her elbows against the open-air wooden counter, her fluffy gray cat tail swishing with a knowing, grandmotherly delight behind her apron strings.
"Oh, you don't like it, huh?" Talestia teased with a sharp, wicked snicker, her ring-plated tail giving an amused wag against the cobblestones. "The grand, stoic Crown Princess gets the jitters around her silver-armored fiancé, and she thinks it's a medical problem. Kirra, you are an absolute disaster when it comes to normal feelings."
Freya finally chimed in, her long white rabbit ears perking straight up into the air as she tapped her pencil against her leather notebook. "Doesn't that jittery feeling mean you lik—"
Smack!
Before the word could fully slip past her teeth, Talestia's hand flew out with blinding speed, clamping firmly over Freya’s mouth and cutting her off into a muffled squeak. Talestia leaned in close, pulling the blue-haired girl down until her armadillo ears were right next to Freya’s head.
"Don't tell her!" Talestia whispered frantically, her voice a sharp, teasing hiss as a wide grin broke across her face. "Let her figure it out for herself. It will be way more fun to watch!" She pulled her hand back, letting out a sharp, quiet snicker that echoed off the bakery counter.
Freya blinked her large golden eyes, her cheeks flaring with a soft blush as she gave a small, reluctant nod of agreement.
I stared back at them with a totally flat, unblinking glare, my snow-white owl ears twitching with intense suspicion. I didn't understand why they were acting so strange, but the lingering warmth on my face and the stubborn, erratic thumping inside my chest told me my elven frame was completely working against my conscious mind. I took another massive, completely unbothered bite of my sweet cricket paste roll to block out their amusement, forcing my thoughts back to the rigid plans I had made for the rest of our afternoon.
"What should be our goals in the dungeon when we go back to class?" I asked, desperately trying to change the subject before their teasing could completely destroy my composure. I rested my hands flat against the wooden counter, keeping my voice flat and steady. "I want to find advanced spellbooks for all of us so we can change out our spell seals whenever we need to."
Talestia and Freya stopped giggling, their expressions immediately turning serious as they leaned in closer to the bakery counter.
"I also want to get some proper defensive gear for Amy to prepare her for the future," I continued smoothly, my crystal-blue eyes locking onto theirs with absolute clarity. "Humans do not live nearly as long as us elves, which means she is going to grow up incredibly fast. The slow, decades-long pace of training that we typically do in this kingdom simply won't work for her."
I paused, calculating the exact timeline in my head as my snow-white owl ears twitched in the quiet afternoon air.
"My plan is to start training her to use her grave magic the exact moment she turns ten," I explained, laying out the map of our upcoming years. "Then, we will spend five more intensive years training together inside the dungeon. Once she reaches her fifteenth year, we will finally set out into the wider world to establish our own adventurers' guild, hunt down your traitorous father, Talestia, and locate and cleanse the rest of the twelve decaying labyrinths."
"You forgot getting married and taking the throne," Talestia said, her serious look vanishing in a split second as a wide, triumphant grin broke across her face. She leaned her elbow back onto the wooden bakery counter, her ring-plated tail giving a playful slap against the cobblestones as she snickered loudly at my expense. "You've got our whole lives laid out for the next fifteen years, Princess, but you completely skipped over the part where you become Queen and settle down with your punk-rock Prince."
"Let's go shopping at the spell and skills shop down the road," I replied flatly, abandoning my empty pastry wrapper and immediately pivoting away from the counter to change the subject yet again.
Freya completely lost control, bursting out into a loud, unstoppable fit of laughter. She clutched her sides tightly with both hands, her long white rabbit ears flopping dynamically back and forth as her signature nervous bird sounds echoed across the entire cobblestone street.
"Tweet! Tweet! Tweet!" Freya squeaked hysterically, her cheeks turning a bright pink as she leaned heavily against Talestia for support, her leather notebook nearly slipping from her fingers.
Talestia joined in right behind her, her armadillo ears twitching wildly with immense satisfaction at my complete desperation to escape the marriage topic. Even Jasmen let out a soft, amused giggle from behind her open-air wooden counter, her thick gray cat tail swishing cheerfully as she watched the three of us. My face remained a perfectly frozen mask of deadpan stone, but the warm, erratic thumping inside my chest grew even louder as I began marching down the market lane, determined to get our vanguard party equipped for the dangerous labyrinth trails ahead.
We left the cozy shop behind and headed straight down the winding cobblestone path toward the next location on our list.
The market lanes of Yggdrasil fanned out in a breathtaking display of ancient druidic craft, leading us right to the base of a towering, six-story structure. The entire shop was grown seamlessly out of a single, mighty maple tree, its upper rings crowned by soft amber windows that cast a warm, welcoming glow over the street below. Standing right behind the grand heartwood threshold was the shop's owner—a truly ancient tree ent. His thick bark was a pristine, weathered white, and his long, sweeping branches were filled with vibrant pink leaves and heavy red apples growing straight off his limbs.
Stepping inside, the interior layout was an absolute masterpiece of natural architecture. Sprawling wooden shelves were grown directly out of the central trunk of the massive tree, twisting upward through all six stories. Each section was immaculately labeled with a different combat class, with individual tiers carved right into the wood that reached all the way up to advanced rank.
"I'm going to check out the ranger and necromancer sections," I told them, my voice completely flat and steady as I stepped away from the central aisle.
Before I could even take two strides toward the massive grown-timber trunk, my snow-white owl ears twitched dynamically, catching a heavy, familiar presence shifting just beyond the grand heartwood threshold. I turned my head slightly, peeking through the soft amber windows of the shop front. Vice Captain Sharn Vah Ironbark was standing perfectly rigid right outside the entry door, her massive two-meter halberd resting casually against her leather-armored shoulder plate as her slitted amber eyes calmly scanned the busy market lane.
Hmm... she has been following us this whole time, I thought silently to myself, a sudden realization hitting my mind as I recognized her protective shadow from our basement forge workspace. My father wasn't taking a single gamble with our safety after the brutal ambush on the wilderness road.
Dismissing the thought, I headed straight over to the shelves grown for the ranger class. I didn't waste a single second scanning or calculating individual descriptions. Relying on sheer abundance to secure our future versatility, I reached onto the wooden lips and grabbed exactly one copy of every single spell scroll from each available rank, piling the tightly rolled parchments into my arms.
Turning on my heel, the fabric of my green ranger tunic brushing against the wood, I marched straight over to the dark, shadowed corner housing the necromancer spells. Thinking of little Amy's fast human growth and the heavy burden of her future labyrinth quests, I pulled down one copy of every grave magic spell scroll from every rank on the shelf.
I didn't care about the total cost. I had a massive crown stipend burning through my pockets, and after losing Kristorf, I refused to let our vanguard walk into the dark under-equipped ever again.
"Do the same with your classes!" I called out to Freya and Talestia, my clear, deadpan voice shouting across the sprawling, six-story store interior. "Get one of each spell and at each rank available. I'll cover the cost!"
The ancient white-barked ent shopkeeper chuckled to himself, a slow, deep timber groan reverberating right through the polished heartwood floorboards of his shop. He shook his sweeping branches, a few bright pink leaves fluttering through the air as his ancient branch-fingers adjusted a massive wooden counting ledger grown into his podium.
"That's going to be quite expensive, you know," the old ent rumbled, his gravelly voice echoing off the high-canopy ceiling panels. "Do you have a spellbook to hold all those spells? We sell a few here. We even have two ultra-rare, two-hundred-page books that can hold up to four hundred spells or skills each... but they will cost about two hundred royal gold coins each."
"I'll take one," I said immediately, my voice dropping back into its flat, deadpan clarity as I stepped up to his massive cedar counter. I clutched the massive, towering pile of scrolls tightly against the front of my green leather ranger tunic, my crystal-blue eyes looking straight into his weathered bark face. "This will make a great adoption gift for Amy."
The old ent's jaw went slightly slack, his pink leaves rustling in surprise as he looked down at the tiny teenage girl casually demanding one of the rarest artifacts in the entire capital metropolis. He picked up a thick piece of charcoal, running the manual tallies across his parchment sheets before looking back up at me with a respectful nod.
"Absolutely, Your Highness," the ancient white-barked ent responded respectfully.
He offered a slow, creaking bow that made his pink leaves rustle softly against his branches. He carefully took a clean piece of royal parchment from the desk, where I quickly wrote down a formal voucher to settle the transaction. I signed my name across the bottom line with absolute, cold precision, then pulled the heavy royal signet ring from my finger. Pressing the metal firmly down into a pool of hot, green wax, I applied my official seal right next to the signature—a sharp, perfect imprint of the World Tree surrounded by thirteen stars.
The old ent slid the heavy document safely beneath his cedar podium, then reached into a hollow alcove grown directly out of the central shop trunk. He pulled out a massive, breathtaking leather-bound book. Its thick covers were reinforced with shimmering emerald-infused plates, its two hundred heavy parchment pages completely blank and ready to store the endless rows of scrolls stacked in my arms.
"Your total will be two hundred and two royal gold coins," he rumbled softly.
I took the rare spellbook from his hands, its immense physical weight pressing heavily against my green ranger tunic as I turned to look at my childhood companions.
Across the wide store aisle, Talestia and Freya were standing completely frozen under a shelf of defensive shield techniques. Their arms were still locked in place, their jaws hanging wide open in absolute, un-throttled shock as they stared straight back at me. They had been completely paralyzed by the sheer, terrifying velocity of my spending habits, unable to process how I had just drained two hundred and two royal gold coins out of the crown treasury in a single, deadpan breath.
Talestia and Freya finally snapped out of their unmoving shock, their hands dropping to their sides as they transitioned across the wide timber floorboards toward the counter.
"Are you sure you don't want to keep that book for yourself?" Talestia asked, her gravelly voice dropping into a frantic whisper as her armadillo ears gave a sharp, anxious twitch. "Why not just buy both of them if you're already clearing out the treasury vaults?"
Freya nodded rapidly beside her, her long white rabbit ears bouncing dynamically with absolute bewilderment as she stared down at the massive, emerald-plated book resting against my chest.
"Nah, it will better suit Amy's twelve seals than my four," I replied flatly, my face remaining an unyielding mask of deadpan stone as my snow-white owl ears gave a small, indifferent shrug. I adjusted the towering pile of ranger and necromancer scrolls in my arms, my crystal-blue eyes looking directly at my childhood companions. "And the royal family doesn't have endless wealth."
Talestia simply rolled her eyes, let out a loud, amused snort, and crossed her leather-covered arms over her chest, completely unconvinced by my sudden concern for our nation's budget.
I turned on my heel to carry the heavy stack of scrolls toward the exit, but right before we could leave the store, the grand doors swung open.
Prince Fadwin and Retar stepped straight through the entrance into the warm light of the shop.
The exact moment my eyes locked onto his silver armor, I felt my heart violently skip a beat. A rapid jolt of warmth shot straight through me, making my face flush with a sudden, uncontrollable heat. Desperate to hide my red face, I panicked. I bolted right past them, sprinting through the entrance and out the front doors before he could even look at my face or see the massive pile of items clutched against my chest.
I left Freya and Talestia standing completely frozen at the counter, their mouths hanging open in absolute surprise as I blurred out of their sight.
I ran down the cobblestone path until I reached a quiet wooden archway, leaning against the rough bark to catch my breath in the crisp afternoon air. I forced my breathing back into a slow rhythm, manually fighting to clamp down on the chaotic, jittery thumping inside my chest.
I waited for about five minutes in the shadow of the roots before my friends finally came out of the storefront, carrying the rest of our heavy purchases.
"What took y'all?" I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest and forcing my face right back into a flat, stubborn look to hide the lingering warmth on my cheeks.
Talestia and Freya walked up to the archway, carrying the heavy bags of scrolls. Talestia had a massive, teasing grin plastered right across her face, her armadillo ears twitching with absolute delight as she looked at my red cheeks.
"Oh, I don't know, Princess," Talestia mocked loudly, leaning against the cedar root and snickering at my expense. "Maybe it took us a minute because our leader suddenly grew legs and sprinted out of the building like she saw a forest demon. You practically knocked the Prince over just to escape a simple hello."
Freya let out another soft, giggling bird sound behind her notebook. "You really ran fast, Kirra. Your face was as bright as a ripe winter berry... tweet!"
"Let's go to the public bath and call it a night," I suggested, turning on my heel to change the subject before they could tease me any further.
The confusing feelings were swirling through my mind, making it impossible to focus on anything else. Maybe having a long bath with my friends will clear my head, I thought to myself, desperate for the soothing warmth of the spring water to wash away the stubborn, erratic thumping inside my chest.
Talestia and Freya stopped their snickering, exchanging a quick, surprised look before nodding in immediate agreement. The long journey back from the wilderness and the emotional weight of the morning ceremony had left all of us physically exhausted, our muscles still aching from the tension of the past few weeks.
We headed down the winding path, leaving the busy marketplace behind as we made our way toward the lower rings where the grand sylvan bathhouses were nestled into the great roots of the city. As we walked, the afternoon sun began to dip below the massive branches overhead, casting long, amber shadows across the cobblestones and signaling the end of a long, life-altering day.
The next day, I woke up inside the quiet, familiar shelter of my own room, the deep silence of the palace wings wrapping around my senses like a thick blanket.
The soft, warm morning light filtered gently through the green leaves of the living branch balcony doors, illuminating my magnificent, custom-grown royal bed. The incredibly fancy structure was masterfully woven from the living, emerald-infused branches of the World Tree, its ancient wood casting a gentle, soothing glow over the silk pillows and hand-woven sheets.
Beside my hip, little Amy was still fast asleep, completely undisturbed by the shifting light. Her long orange hair was tangled in wild, messy strands across the fine fabrics, while her small fingers remained lightly hooked into the edge of my tunic, anchoring herself to my side even in her dreams. I remained perfectly still, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest as the profound weight of my new reality settled heavily over my mind.
"Time to wake up, Your Highness," Head Maid Melawin Dah Ironbark said softly, her quiet footsteps making no sound as she stepped into the chamber with a warm, maternal smile. Her pink hair was smoothed back neatly into a flawless court bun, and her small raccoon companion peeked out curiously from behind her shoulder, its tiny ears twitching in the quiet room. "Your father has summoned you to his room this morning. You and Amy are to meet him by his private chambers. Let's get you both dressed properly for the audience."
I sat up slowly, my white-fuzzed owl ears giving a small, defensive twitch as I carefully pulled the heavy blankets back so I wouldn't disturb the sleeping child. The peaceful, time-blurring rest of the previous evening's sylvan bath had done wonders for my aching muscles, dissolving the physical exhaustion of the wilderness roads, but the sudden mention of my father's summons brought the serious reality of our situation right back to the front of my thoughts. The grand ceremony was officially over, the public engagement was locked behind the crown's seal, and it was time to step into the King's sanctuary to map out our future.
Head Maid Melawin walked over to the grand wardrobe grown directly into the thick wooden wall, her hands moving smoothly across the hanging fabrics before she pulled two new garments from the cedar racks.
For me, she selected a stunning, deep-red version of the resplendent royal gown I had worn to the ceremony yesterday. The flowing fabric swept down elegantly, its heavy silk borders trimmed with immaculate elven script and protective orichalcum spell runes that caught the morning light like liquid fire. For Amy, Melawin lifted a soft, miniature gray version of the exact same gown. The quiet, ash-toned fabric contrasted beautifully with the little girl's long, vibrant orange hair, making her look like a small, distinguished piece of the royal household as she rubbed the sleep from her freckled face.
"Here we go, little princess," Melawin cooed softly, kneeling down on the floorboards to help Amy step into the heavy stitching and gently smooth out the long dress lines of her tiny gray gown.
I stood perfectly still by the balcony doors, allowing the attendant maids to meticulously braid my long purple-tinted hair with gold and silver cords to match the strict, traditional etiquette of the high court. I held my deadpan features rigidly intact, but underneath the rich red silk covering my chest, my heart gave a heavy, anxious thud. Looking over at Amy as she proudly adjusted her matching gray dress, the memory of her floating ledger and the terrifying labyrinth quests flooded my mind all over again. We were dressing in the fine silks of the high court, but the path ahead of us was forged in iron and ancient blood, and it was time to face my father to plan our defense.
We reached my father’s chambers, the massive doors woven from ancient ironwood sliding open with a low, heavy groan as we approached the threshold. King Arwin was waiting just by the doorway, his towering frame casting a long, imposing shadow into the hall, with Prime Minister Subwin standing silently and rigidly right behind his shoulder.
Walking beside me and little Amy were Sharn, Talestia, Freya, and Head Maid Melawin. When we were safely inside the palace walls, Freya always acted as a dedicated assistant to her mother, setting aside her scholar notebook and pencil to help manage the complex royal household details. Talestia, meanwhile, always took turns standing guard with Vice Captain Sharn, keeping her broad shoulders squared and her amber eyes sharp to secure our blind spots along the winding corridors.
"I'm sorry to call you here so early, Kirra," my father spoke, his deep, booming voice softening into a serious, heavy rumble as his wolf tail gave a slow, deliberate sweep across the floorboards. "But I must speak to you about the coming term and what lies ahead for our family."
He paused, his large amber eyes looking down at the striking red silk of my gown before shifting his gaze to little Amy in her miniature gray dress.
"There will be a grand ball after the one-on-one tournament at the very end of this five-year term," King Arwin explained, his face turning solemn as he laid out the path we had to walk. "And before that day arrives, you will have to undergo comprehensive bridal training to prepare you for your formal court dance and the upcoming royal wedding. We are going to hold the wedding exactly one week after you all graduate from the academy at the age of fifty."
"Yes, Father," I responded simply, forcing my voice to maintain its signature, unblinking clarity as my snow-white owl ears gave a small, submissive twitch.
I kept my hands folded neatly over the deep-red silk of my gown, completely accepting the heavy reality of the five-year timeline. No matter how much my heart thudded in defensive protest against the upcoming bridal training and court dances, my analytical thoughts recognized the sheer political necessity of securing this grand alliance.
Beside my hip, little Amy looked up at my father's towering mountain of a frame, her wide, expressive eyes blinking in complete, unbothered innocence.
"Ok, Grumps!" Amy said cheerfully, her tiny voice breaking right through the serious atmosphere of the ironwood corridor as she gave an obedient nod.
A sharp, collective gasp nearly left the lungs of the maids standing behind us, and Prime Minister Subwin's floppy silver-furred ears violently flared forward in absolute shock at her total lack of courtly decorum. No one in the sixteen-thousand-year history of the metropolis had ever addressed the sovereign ruler of Befredon with such a casual, unrefined title. But King Arwin just froze for a fraction of a second before a low, deep chuckle rumbled straight through his massive chest, his red and black furred tail giving a delighted swipe against the floorboards as he looked down at his new granddaughter.
"And as for Amy," my father continued, his features softening with a gentle warmth as he looked at the small, orange-haired human girl clutching my hand. "Over the next five years, she will not be entering the dungeons just yet. She will have to stay within the safety of these upper rings to undergo intensive history lessons, math, reading, writing, and strict language curriculum. If she is to be a recognized Princess of Befredon, she must be fully prepared before she ever steps foot into the trials of the world."
Shit, I thought violently to myself, my fingers clenching tightly into the rich, deep-red silk of my royal gown.
Why do I keep failing to reject this marriage?
My mind was desperately trying to calculate a way out, scrambling to find some clever loophole to escape the looming contract. But for some bizarre reason, the closer the timeline grew, the less it was actually bothering me. The thought of being bound to Fadwin wasn't causing my analytical defenses to flare up with their usual unyielding defiance. It wasn't triggering my stubborn anger. And that—more than the bridal training, more than the court dance, more than the entire political alliance—bothered me even more.
It was like my old human ego was gone for good.
The corporate professional from the United States, the thirty-five-year-old manager who lived by budgets, deadlines, and strict control—that entire persona felt like it had been permanently left behind in the dirt of that wilderness clearing. When the assassin's blade had cut through my neck, it hadn't just ended my original physical life; it had completely severed the stubborn human vanity that I had spent forty years clinging to inside this palace.
Now, being brought back by Kristorf's vital spark, my underlying elven biology had taken total command of my core. My white-fuzzed owl ears, my purple hair, and the instinctive, fluttering warmth that redlined my heart every time Fadwin drew near were my absolute, unyielding reality. The old human walls had crumbled to dust, leaving nothing but the true Crown Princess of Befredon standing in the red silk gown, completely transformed and bound to a destiny I could no longer fight.
The next few days passed in a blink, the quiet moments inside our private wings dissolving rapidly into a blur of preparation. We spent our hours organizing our packs, checking the fittings of our gear, and ensuring little Amy was settled into her new daily routine with Head Maid Melawin. Before we could even fully settle into our new family rhythms, the final morning arrived, breaking over the canopy tree with a crisp, clear light.
It was time for us to head back to the Befredon Royal Dungeon Diving Academy.
We still had two more floors to clear before we could even reach the raid floor on the fifth level of the hundred-floor sprawling dungeon known as Queen’s Lament.
The weight of those numbers hung heavily over our vanguard party as we marched through the towering ironwood archway of the training grounds. Clearing the third and fourth levels was going to require absolute, flawless execution under the King's strict new proximity rules. We had to remain tightly bound to our instructor’s range while maintaining a single, unbreakable defensive perimeter line, knowing that any slip-up would force the hidden Royal Guard detachment to intervene and slap us with a total failure.
I checked the straps of my green ranger tunic one final time, my face locked into its typical deadpan calm as my crystal-blue eyes scanned the familiar training yard. Beside me, Talestia tightened the buckles on her leather chest plates, her armadillo ears twitching forward with intense focus, while Freya clutched her pencil and scholar notebook tightly against her robes. The time for marketplace shopping and palace diplomacy was officially behind us. The dark, treacherous descents of Queen's Lament were waiting, and we were going to conquer the next two levels to prove we were ready for the horrors of the fifth-floor raid.