But there are still difficult days. The hardest was when Commander Arxa’s messenger came to Dara with a formal invitation to the Imperial Academy. I sent my regrets, and then went to bed for the rest of the day.

I keep my venomous pets in a shed specially built to house them. There are shelves for all the cages, and an open space between the walls and the roof to let the light in. The snakes need to be milked once a day, as do the scorpions. For the spiders, I place mock insects into their webs to attract bites. Those, I collect every two days.

My purple-crowned serpent is bobbing and weaving in her cage when I open the door. I whistle a soothing tone as I approach.

“You love Gil, then?” I ask Leora, who watches from the doorway. “He’s the one you want to live out your life with?”

There is joy in her eyes as she replies. “He is very good to me. And he will be a good father to our children.”

I feel a twinge that I tell myself isn’t envy. I love Leora dearly, and she deserves all the happiness that’s coming to her. I say it silently to myself, and then I repeat it again.

Diadem flicks her tongue at me when I open her cage. She’s usually a peaceful creature, and I’m not sure what’s bothering her. I reach for her slowly, ready to pull back if she strikes, but she simply slithers up my hand and anchors her tail around my wrist. I wince at the strength of her grip. With my other hand I pick up a jar covered with deer gut, and Diadem rears her head high. When I change the tone of my whistle, the snake strikes, embedding her fangs in the lid. The move calms her somewhat, but she’s still not herself. I decide to keep her on me as I move to the next cage. I wouldn’t have spent so much effort on the creatures before I fell ill, but these days they’re my most consistent companions, and I do my best to keep them
content.

With Diadem firmly anchored on my upper arm, I move on to the blackarmor scorpion. “Send my well-wishes to Gil,” I say. “I’d like to have him visit sometime, if he is willing.”

It’s not the first time I’ve extended the invitation, but somehow I know that Leora will continue to come alone. Leora doesn’t respond right away, and I feel guilty for putting her in a position where she must make excuses for her betrothed.

She looks toward the clearing. “Someone’s coming.”