It was silent for several minutes before Cora huffed and turned to her. Her eyes narrowed. “It is a pretty ridiculous story.”

“None of us want anything bad to happen to the Guild – it’s all of our futures, right?” Prue thought about what she’d heard Cora’s parents say at the Grand Principalia. “Right?” she said softly.

“But stag-men? Craftsman Primrose plotting to overthrow Master Woolstenbury and the governor?”

“I know how ridiculous it sounds, and I know you don’t think much of me. But believe me, I wish I weren’t here, either, knowing what’s about to happen.”

“Well, I don’t have a choice but to be here, Frances. It’s expected. You have no idea what’s it’s like being told what to do from the moment you were born, to act in the way that’s expected of your position in society, to achieve the best grades, attend endless boring dinners with members of the Sovereign Chancellery to secure your future.”

Prue didn’t. She had so much freedom on the farm. “I’m sure your parents want the best for you, they’ve just forgotten to listen on the way.”

Cora stared at her. Her face seemed to have lost its hardened mask.

“We really are telling the truth, Cora. I wouldn’t make up stories about something so important. Perhaps if you help us, when it’s all over your parents will see that you can think for yourself and will give you a choice? Maybe you’ll have the strength to tell them what you really want.”

Cora sighed. “Maybe farm girls aren’t all stupid after all.”

“Thank you for believing us.”

Cora huffed and turned away. “I said maybe.”

Chapter 29: Blood Moon

BLOOD MOON

Snow arrived with a portent chill on the morning of the blood moon. Fitful sleep left Prue edgy and nervous. She knew she needed to be focused, so she put on her warmest clothes and decided to take a walk in the park at the end of Sovereign Row to clear her mind for the day ahead.

All was quiet and an expectant calm hung in the air. She headed across the white-carpeted grass, treading fresh tracks. There wasn’t a breath of wind, and snow rested delicately on branches and leaves. The wintry air somehow made her thoughts sharp and the impending reality all too clear. Her dreams of finding a way to Francis had become buried like the white-blanketed hills, and not only that, by the end of the day she risked losing what was left of her family.

She decided to head back and at least have a good breakfast, then saw Edwin in the snow a short distance away. She waved, and he jumped through the white towards her.

“Hey. Are you all right?” he asked.

She nodded. “Never better. How about you, Jack Swift?”