I’m doomed. My Satyendra is doomed. We are all going to die a horrible and painful death. There will be a trial that will last for ever as they strip the flesh from our bones and the dignity from our souls, and then we will be cast into the Wild.

No. Everything is fine. It is fine. I have to make a plan. Stay with the plan and it will all work out.

After selecting and folding a few of Satyendra’s best clothes, she left the room, making her way swiftly – but calmly! – back towards the Chrysalis Chamber. Without the armour, Pik would be discovered as a fake within moments, provided the person looking knew him. Yadavendra did, but as far as she knew his hunters did not, and from what she had seen, they were hardly conversationalists.

She would get them to escort Pik back to Satyendra’s room and then she would make up an excuse, say that he was feeling too ill to eat. She could even use Pik’s instability on the Sky-legs to her advantage; claim it as the first signs of sickness.

Then, she would have time to scour the castle, find her son, vent her anger, and prepare him for the High Lord. It was a good plan. She could already feel the tension starting to ease.

As she reached the courtyard however, she heard jeering.

The hunters had not moved from their position, though they watched the other inhabitants of the castle openly, aggressively, staking their claim to the courtyard. The poor souls that had to pass them did so at a scurry. Unfortunately the apprentices had no choice but to practise in the courtyard, and it seemed Yadavendra’s hunters were not impressed by what they saw.

Alongside the need to carry out her plan, Chandni felt an urge to put the hunters in their place. Until Lord Rochant’s return, the people here were under her protection, whether that threat came from within or without.

They made way for her as she approached, but only just. The space between them was slight, forcing her to duck if she wished to pass beneath their crystal wings.

Instead of going through she came to a stop in front of them. ‘I don’t know your names,’ she said.

The one who she had spoken to her before smirked at his fellows before replying. ‘I’m Zax, leader of the High Lord’s hunters.’

‘You misunderstand, I was not asking for your name, hunter. I was making a statement.’

His smirk disappeared and he inhaled deeply, making his chest expand. ‘I don’t follow.’

‘I’m saying that if you were worthy of introduction, the High Lord would have made one. He did not. He simply said that you were here to help protect my son. To help me. Do you understand? You are here to help me.’