Isabella rode on a provided horse. Valerio actually didn't know how to ride a horse, and so Isabella held the reins while he sat behind her—an uncommon reversal in things. The revelation at that fact had come as a total surprise to her. He seemed to know so much, and so she'd been surprised by his lack of knowledge. It didn't make her think less of him, of course. Riding on either side of her was Allison and Abigail. Allison in particular was staring at Isabella.

"Did you have something to say?" Isabella asked, looking at Allison.

Allison had a smile on her face. "You're very pretty, Your Highness," she said easily.

"Thank you," Isabella replied courteously, taken off-guard.

"You two look good together," Allison continued to praise, her smile widening. That compliment flustered Isabella more than the pretty one. "But you should probably wear a hooded cloak. My father's men are largely trustworthy, but King Edgar has declared you both wanted fugitives. It's not public because he wants to capture you alive, but it is commonly known among the upper echelons."

"…I see," Isabella said, looking back to Valerio, who had a backpack of their things.

"Abigail should have one," Allison provided. "She was very concerned you wouldn't like the north. She packed a bunch of things, and she's been wanting to offer, but she's worried she'll offend you by offering."

Isabella looked to her right to see Abigail red—though whether from the cold or from the truth of the statement wasn't obvious. Abigail quickly handed over a cloak, and Isabella took it gratefully. She thanked Abigail, who nodded silently. Valerio produced something from his backpack to cover his own head.

"I'm going to go ahead so we can prepare for your arrival," Allison said, spurring her horse further ahead. "I hope you'll like it here!"

Lady Allison seemed carefree and kind, but also somewhat shrewd. Isabella talked about her briefly with Abigail as they moved. Their family relationship seemed good, which was something Isabella was quite envious of. She hardly knew any of her own sisters, mostly because they'd been arranged marriages at the first opportunity, first by Edgar I and then by Edgar II.

Isabella found herself without words when they finally came to the heart of the Archduchy of the North. She immediately noticed the tremendous waterfall, which fell hundreds of feet from a river on a cliff above only to continue flowing down southward. There was a city of stone and wood on a hill not far from the river, which was decently large, if not as grand as that of Dovhain or the cities near it. It was the capital of the north, Blanst. Meanwhile, located in the center of the river was a small island, reachable by bridge—and on that rested the Balat Palace.

"It's beautiful," Isabella told Abigail.

It was a sincere compliment. Its base was made of gray stone, masterfully carved and dotted with windows, but the roof was a blue-black that made all below seem elegant. It seemed more a residence than a fortification. In the distance, Allison crossed the bridge into the palace.

"When it gets colder, the river freezes over and you can walk on the ice," Abigail explained. "Perhaps one day I can take you skating on the surface."

"We probably won't be staying that long," Arthur cut in. "We have to dedicate all our attention to the king."

Isabella glanced at him, and then nodded. "Let's go."

***

When she arrived to the stark gray interior of the Balat Palace, Isabella was greeted by the archduke personally, though without entourage or servants. Without much greeting, they were escorted into a private drawing room, which she was grateful to find had a fire going. As she moved near the fire, the words that came next made her cold.

"Edgar I purged the palace staff, and captured all of the nobility during his coronation," Felix informed her once they wore alone. "He killed many outright, but most were captured."

Isabella turned her head to look at him, swallowing in alarm. "Elaborate," she requested.

"He was coronated," Felix explained, walking inside. "Then, at the banquet, the newly-appointed archbishop arrived. He had evidence against almost every single noble, much of it legitimate. How he did it, I don't…"

"He'll spend a long, long time reversing the clock again and again if it means he can have his big moment," Arthur explained bitterly. "Edgar likely tortured each of them until they confessed to something, and then reset to use the knowledge he gained to extract evidence."

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"You can't be serious," Felix said, looking at Arthur in alarm.

"Edgar will do anything," Arthur insisted.

"Gods…." Felix wiped his face. "Those that died were tried and executed, one by one. 82 executed, 479 imprisoned. I don't even know how deep his purge permeated the palace staff, but I'm told it wasn't a pretty affair."

Valerio walked to a couch in the drawing room and sat down, leaning forth and resting his elbows on his knees. "I made sure that my people were out of there. Nobody that did remain has any insight on where we went." He looked at Isabella and said grimly, "Still, he's doing almost exactly what was expected."

"He is. The people will resist him," Isabella spoke with confidence. "He'll have a very narrow list of trusted allies that he keeps with him in the Royal Palace. He'll isolate himself, and rely upon his traditional advantage to overcome any mass revolts. These are the circumstances that we prepared for—that he should have few allies, and innumerable enemies. The only question remains… how do we capitalize on it?" Isabella naturally looked over to Arthur.

"Sleep is the only time that he's vulnerable," Arthur explained. "Ordinarily, he always takes at least two measures—the first is a ring that violently combusts when its gem is shattered, capable of destroying his head instantly. If he punches his head, he can reset back to when he last awoke—and he can do that in an instant. The second is an insurance policy. He takes a slow-acting poison that kills him should he fall asleep, and an antidote right before any sleep he actually wants. That'd be easy to counteract, ordinarily… but I don't know the antidote," Arthur confessed. "And given how paranoid he is, he might have other preventative measures."

"I feel I'm missing some details," Felix cut in.

"Edgar returns back to the last time that he woke up when he dies," Isabella explained as concisely as she could. "Even if we manage to capture him, if he dies, all our efforts will be for naught."

"Awakening is the trigger?" Felix sought to confirm, and Isabella nodded. He seemed about to say more but the door opened and Allison walked in. She walked to her father and whispered in his ear—despite herself, Isabella heard bits and pieces.

"…glowing, like you said it did before we were born," she said.

Felix looked at her in bewilderment. She nodded in confirmation. He looked at Isabella and explained, "It seems that something has come up that demands my urgent attention. I'll give one other piece of news, because I think it's important that it be said." Felix raised his finger. "In your absence, I've been looking into the Eagaliteh. And I have something worth following up on." He reached into his coat and produced an envelope. "The details are here."

Isabella was immediately surprised by the thickness of the envelope. She didn't have time to ask further questions before Felix urgently left. Allison remained behind.

"What's glowing?" Valerio asked, having overheard.

Allison hesitated for a few moments, looking between all of them while biting her lip. She eventually said, "There's an artifact of House Balat that's been dormant for some time. It's not dangerous, but it's… awake again, which is concerning."

Isabella followed through the natural train of thought. If it was active before they were born… could it be related to the devil's blood that had once afflicted them? Ordinarily that would have been mere speculation easily dismissed, but as coincidences lined up in her head to come they started to seem like pattern.

"The devil gave us certain advantages over men and women. Dark gifts that manifest differently with every new generation," Felix had once explained to her.

Isabella thought that her affliction was wholly different, yet… gifts that manifest differently every new generation? It was less constant than the random manifestation that Edgar or her possessed, but there was an undeniable similarity. Supposedly Edgar had been particularly bellicose about murdering the women that birthed his children because that was somehow part of the inheritance. That sounded well within the requirements of a devil.

Still, that was assuming a lot. Isabella decided to keep that thought to herself for now, perhaps discussing it with Felix or another once he had a handle on what was happening.

A knock on the door interrupted Isabella's thoughts. Allison, the host, walked to answer it cautiously, not allowing it to open too wide.

"I have news," came a familiar voice—Gaspar's. Allison poked her head out and looked around briefly, before opening the door and allowing him to pass. He stormed in with labored breathing. "I found her. Bernadetta."

Isabella narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean?"

"When she called me over to retrieve Alice, I assigned some of my men to engage in reconnaissance," Gaspar said quickly. "Previously, we had no luck. But she's been spotted—and she's nearby, not far from the city of Blanst," he finished eagerly.

Blanst was the city they had seen on the way in. Given all that Bernadetta knew, it probably wasn't difficult for her to puzzle out that Isabella might be heading here. But had she truly come here? Why would she? Surely she'd have no influence here.

"Could it be a trap? An invitation?" Isabella mused aloud, looking to Valerio and Arthur for their input. "What do you think?" She turned back to Gaspar.

"She has some guards, but I don't think any of them are of major concern," Gaspar summarized. "To know any more than that, I'd need to go personally. But I trust my man on the scene."

Valerio walked up to Isabella. "After the countless times which she slipped through our fingers, it feels a little too good to be true."

"In her shoes…" Isabella thought for a few moments. "The reasonable assumption is that I remain afflicted with the wasting illness. Then…" Isabella thought for a moment, then looked to Arthur. "I want you to check Alice, be sure that Bernadetta's done nothing to her," she said. "If she hasn't… approach Bernadetta with a few of your best men," she told Gaspar.

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