When Rayne reached the designated gardening area at several minutes after seven, she was alone. She thought about attempting to do something on her own, but then decided better of it, as she had never really gardened before. Although she had pulled weeds for the kitchen garden, that was puny compared to this large square of neatly ordered rows of produce. The Kitchen Garden, hidden in the Royal Gardens, was twice her height in width, and over three times her height in length. The one in front of her could fit four Kitchen Gardens in its borders, easily.

While Rayne stood in awe of the Garden, she heard people walking up behind her. She turned, and watched a small caravan of children, led by a girl about, or maybe a bit younger than Rayne’s age, troop up the path to the gate in the waist-high wall. The girl waved and Rayne nodded when the group reached speaking distance. The girl put the child she was carrying on her feet and started giving the children around her orders. They scattered like well- ordered troops.

“Hi. My name is Rayne.” She addressed the small child who tottered towards her.

The child giggled and pointed to herself. “Hon-ieeeee.”

“Honey, dear, please go with Jaine. That way you can pull weeds!” The older girl made the chore sound like a joy to do.

“Ok, Nicci!”

The girl in charge looked at Rayne thoughtfully. “You’re new.” She noted.

Rayne nodded. “My name is Rayne. Yes, I’m Ishan, and I’ve lived in the Palace all my life.”

The girl smiled. “I’m Nicolae, but lots of the girls just call me Nicci.” Then her smile faded. “Palace? Do you know how to do chores?”

Rayne laughed. “Yes. I can wash pretty much anything, I know some basics of gardening, although someone should usually watch me, and I know how to read, write and do some figures.”

Nicolae smiled again, broader. “That’s wonderful. I’m so tired of little nobles who daren’t touch the water for fear of wrinkling their soft hands, which would, of course, discourage their numerous suitors.”

At that point, a boy—teen, really, Rayne would say—walked up the path and over to Nicolae. He stood next to her, eyed Rayne, and then said down to the girl, “ ‘Morning, Nic.”

Rayne was taken aback. She was still wearing her tattered cloak from the Palace, a worn one of the Royal family, and the children and Nicolae had on plain brown cloaks, but the boy had on a Moon Priest’s cloak.

And everyone knew that Moon Priests had nothing to do with Sun Priestesses. Not anymore.

Nicolae looked up at the boy. “Hi, Gabe. This is Rayne, she’s from the Palace. She can actually do figures! She can deal with the re-stock of the Kitchen on Sun day, instead of us taking marks to do it.”

The boy looked at her, and nodded. “I’m Gabriel. You’re from the Palace, and educated? But you’re Ishan, right?”

His tone of voice was straightforward and curious. Rayne wasn’t insulted, and vaguely surprised that she wasn’t. But it was true—the Ishans that worked at the Palace did their job and weren’t overly friendly to their ‘overlords.’ They no longer fought, ever since the brutal rebellion thirty-some years ago, and the resulting compromise that the Ishans could still own the land, they just wouldn’t make any money off of the rent that the Gydians forced them to take. The Ishans were the ghost servants of the Palace, and the Gydians were the guards and the personal manservants, visible and friendly.

Rayne had uncomfortably bounced between the two, with the occasionally Ishan woman telling her of her heritage, and her native people’s history, and then Anya and Dija caring for her, loving her, teaching her. Ishans normally had no care for learning the Gydian education—but she had learned anyway.

So she nodded. “Yes. I was adopted by the Empress when I was a foundling.” Then, she asked, just as sincerely, since the gloves were apparently off, “And you are a Moon Priest? And you’re here, in the Sun Temple?”

Gabriel scowled. “Yes, and it’s a long story. I’ll tell you eventually, but not now.”

The winter chores were simple: they went outside, broke up the soil in the garden, washed the laundry, prayed, and studied. Rayne fell into a routine, helped greatly by Nicolae and Gabriel. She soon learned Gabriel’s story, and this only increased her growing acceptance but wariness of supernatural things.

Rayne noted with great amusement the unconscious relationship the two had, and this knowledge and approval won her the friendship of Clio and Thalia, whom she began to open up to.

She had studied furiously in the Library, becoming used to the figure of the stern Eurepte lurking in the background, until she realized that the other Initiates, Gydian nobles all, couldn’t care less about their studies, and were, in fact, greatly behind on the doctrine they were supposed to know. Rayne then became concerned with how well she knew it, but reading the scripture and the rituals were like reading a favorite book: she knew what was written almost before she read it, and it stayed in her head like a favorite chant or song—she could recall it at will.

Rayne observed the slow decrease of the attendance to the Temple. She didn’t have to deal with the petitioners directly, as she was not a priestess, but less priestesses were needed each week, and when the High Priestess came down from her Tower, her frustration was obvious.

She got weekly notes from Yvonne and Kellin, and their friendship renewed over the correspondence. Yvonne kept her up-to-date on the Court happenings—the High Counselor had until Midsummer’s Day to present the Court with the Missing Heir, and the old man was apparently doing nothing to meet that deadline. He seemed content to rule the Council in the petty disputes it had always argued over. Kellin talked about her growing romance with Chase, and then her overwhelming disappointment when he disappeared without word for days.

To her disappointment, Sinjuin wrote but occasionally and erratically, mostly on the investigation, which was going nowhere.

Rayne’s patience had increased dramatically when she arrived at the Temple. She still listened constantly, especially to the priestess’ discussions, but as far as she could tell, neither Thalia nor Clio knew anything, and Eurepte never spoke. Somehow, she knew that she had to become a Priestess—it was the next step. She didn’t question it, just like she didn’t question her innate knowledge of the rituals or any of the other increasingly strange things occurring in her life.

What did disturb her though, was the note from Adrianne. Rayne knew Adrianne only by name and reputation; the girl was Juel’s secretary and confidant. Juel had adored the girl and praised her constantly for her calm and levelheaded manner in the midst of flighty whores. But the letter the girl had pressed into Rayne’s hand one Sun day ritual was anything but. In fact, it was similar to its bearer—worn, harried, frantic. Juel had gone to see Lord Ozymedaus two moons ago, and hadn’t been back since. She hadn’t sent word, she hadn’t made an appearance, nothing. Adrianne hadn’t done anything until two weeks had passed, and then it had taken more time than expected for a reply from Lord Ozymedaus. He wrote back, as Adrianne described it, “unhappy, and panicky-sounding”. He had thought she was upset with him, and he hadn’t heard from her either. All of Adrianne’s inquires had come to naught, even in the slave trade. And the underlings were growing restless with the power vacuum.

Rayne had waited for the girl to come back, and sent her with a letter to Yvonne, telling her to disguise Adrianne and set her up with work in the Palace. The hierarchy of whores could be dealt with later, but she would set the Palace on the trail of Juel and keep Adrianne safe at the same time.

Then spring came, and life became much more complicated.

The first sign of trouble was when word was sent to her that there had been another murder in the Palace—this time, the Gydian servant Jason.

AN:

Ok, who’s with me? Who has questions? Who thinks I should just give it up right now?

I don’t know. That’s why you should review.

And if you really, really, are lost, then try and tell me if that helps at