A lifetime ago, little Avice had climbed an oak tree, avoiding preparations for the Queen’s arrival at her family estate. The lone red-haired woman walking through the grounds had spotted her, laughed at her avoidance of ‘the dull business going on indoors’. She’d asked the girl about her love of Drake and listened to how she’d rather be an explorer and adventurer like him than a lady forced to wear dresses and welcome the Queen. The lady had gifted the girl a pin—a drake like Ser Francis’s sigil—and told her that it had been given to her ancestor by the man himself. Then she’d left with a reminder that everyone had to do their duty eventually.

And when little Avice Ferrers had been caught and scrubbed clean, dressed and presented to the Queen, she’d found herself face to face with that new friend.

Now she was gone. And she’d never known Avice Ferrers, who’d remained her friend, who’d met Evered Lyons at her Calan Mai celebrations, was still alive and had always stayed loyal. Or that she’d even worn the jewelled drake pin every single day.

Everyone leaves.

Vice frowned, heart squeezing even as she murmured the words, “Long live the Queen.” Knigh said it too, and they all bowed their heads.

“Well, I need to tell the rest of the crew.” Perry nodded with a sad smile and closed the door.

Long live Queen Elizabeth V. No more Elizabeth IV.

“What’s that?” Knigh caught her hand, and she flinched.

“What?” She blinked, fingertips lifting from the pin where it was hidden under her collar.

His brow creased, staring at it. “That pin—where did you get it?”

Avice Ferrers. A stupid little girl. On one level, she knew she shouldn’t be annoyed. The Queen thought her young friend Avice had died three years ago and the Queen’s death was no more an abandonment of that girl than the winter was an abandonment by the sun. And yet …

Her heart squeezed again. Another friend, another ally gone, albeit one from years ago. The Queen was the whole reason she’d even met Evered, it was at her Calan Mai celebrations that he’d crowned Avice his May Queen.

One more tether to her old life broke.

The loose ends snapped back in a sharp reminder. She was Vice. She was strong. She didn’t need the Queen or Evered or Kat or any of them, and she didn’t need to be remembered.

Heat prickled across her scalp and down her neck. Good riddance to Avice Ferrers. She deserved to be forgotten, fool that she’d been.

“I got it from a girl who died a long time ago,” she muttered, arms folding. Let him get a good look at the pin—maybe he recognised it after all these years.