Platinum Prisons: Book 4 of The Rose Tree Chronicles

"If a Slave runs away from its owner, the Slave owner must report the Slave missing to the Association of Slave Owners."

Deep within the shadowed heart of the Lucierna Forest, tension thickened beneath the ethereal blue beams of moonlight piercing through the tangled canopy. A slave girl, no older than a teenager, fled desperately, her feet pounding through the dense fog that clung like a shroud to the forest floor. Behind her, the chilling chorus of snarling dogs and the harsh shouts of angry men sliced through the darkness, closing in with terrifying intent.

"They're gaining on us!" shouted the pixie who accompanied the slave. "Run faster!"

Savage panting was all the girl could give in reply.

She continued running, her legs burning from the strain. Then the ground vanished beneath her. She plunged through the mist, tumbling down a steep slope. Rocks scraped her limbs and branches lashed at her skin, but she bit down on her scream, knowing silence was her only shield. When she finally crashed at the bottom, she wasted no time. Gritting her teeth against the pain, she staggered to her feet, tore leaves from her crimson hair, and wiped mud from her pale skin as she pressed forward.

She didn't stop as the forest seemed to hold its breath around her, until she reached it. Before them stood the grandest tree in all of the Lucierna, towering like a silent guardian. A sprawling, three-story dwelling had been carved into its mighty trunk, its roots rising from the soil like ancient staircases. With her fairy companion darting behind her, the girl climbed one of the root-hewn steps and pounded on the wooden door, her fists echoing her desperation.

"Hello? Hello! Please let me in! I need help! It's an emergency!"

No response. The girl pressed her ear to the door, straining for the faintest sound—footsteps, a creak, anything—but the house inside the tree remained still and silent, as if it had been long abandoned. She stole a glance over her shoulder. The snarling of hounds and the hoarse shouts of men still echoed through the forest, carried by the wind like a warning. Though she couldn't see the flicker of their torches through the fog-laced trees, the noise was growing louder. Closer. Her breath hitched. Turning back, she raised her fist and struck the door again, harder this time, desperation pounding with every knock.

"Please! Is anyone in there?"

Finally, a light came on inside and a man, who appeared to be in his early thirties, answered the door. "What is the meaning of this? Do you realize what time it is?"

"I'm being hunted!" the slave answered. "Please, let me inside!"

"Why are you being hunted?"

"I'll explain inside, please let me in!"

"No can do, you'll have to go elsewhere." The man closed the door.

"Please!" The slave pounded on the door again.

"I said 'no can do!'" he called from inside.

Without warning, the slave's legs buckled beneath her. A sharp cry tore from her throat as she collapsed against the wooden threshold, clutching her sides. Pain coursed through her like fire, seizing her muscles and leaving her trembling at the base of the door. The breath she drew was shallow, ragged, every inhale a battle.

"Oh no!" said the pixie. "Not now!"

"I will not be fooled," said the man from behind the door.

"Oh, have a heart!" the pixie snapped. "Your grandfather would've let her in at the first knock!"

"What do you know about my grandfather?"

"Robin's father helped me during the Stone War!"

The man opened a small hatch in the door, and glanced at the pixie with inquisitive brown eyes. "You wouldn't happen to be Rein Bow, would you? Pryce's friend?"

"Yes. Please let us in, we can discuss it more inside."

"I need water!" cried the slave through clenched teeth.

The man cast a quick glance at the girl writhing on his doorstep, then finally unlatched the door. Without a word, he stooped and gathered her into his arms, her limbs limp and trembling against him. He carried her across the threshold and into the dim, soil-scented warmth of the cottage. He placed her gently atop the sturdy wooden table that stood in the center of the modest kitchen, its surface cleared for moments such as this.

"I need water!" she repeated.

The man returned moments later with a cup of water and pressed it into her trembling hands. She drank greedily, gulping it down in desperate swallows, not pausing for breath until the last drop was gone. At last, the torment subsided, leaving only her ragged breathing in its wake.

"That's it?" the man asked. "You were screaming in agony a moment ago!"

"That's how it works for some reason," Rein said. "Nadia, you must let him look at you."

"I don't need him to look at me, Rein," Nadia breathed. "I simply need sanctuary until those men pass."

"But perhaps he can make these spasms cease," Rein argued.

"I doubt it, they're normal."

"It's normal?" the man asked.

"Agonizing pain is not normal," Rein said.

"How long have you been experiencing these spasms?" the man asked.

"Three years," Nadia answered.

"Since you were how old?"

"Ten," Rein answered for Nadia, who had actually been experiencing the pain since she was almost fifteen.

Nadia was eighteen now, but she appeared thirteen or fourteen. It was imperative they lie about her age to hide the fact that she was a mermaid, a race which aged slower than most. The older she grew, the slower she aged.

"Really? What's your ethnicity?" asked the man.

"I'm part elf and part napaeae," said Nadia.

It was the same answer she had offered her master six years earlier, the same cautious lie delivered with a steady gaze and a soft voice. But even as the words left her lips this time, she could feel them fraying. The man's eyes lingered on her, narrowed with doubt. The silence between them stretched thin, heavy with unspoken suspicion. Then, a sudden burst of urgent pounding rattled the door, breaking the tension. The man turned, his posture stiffening as he moved to answer it.

"Don't let them in!" Nadia pleaded.

"Who goes there?" the man called.

"We are servants to the Marquis of Helvetica in the Noelle Empire," came a voice Nadia recognized as Alik's, one of her master's footmen. "We have reason to believe that one of his slaves is in there with you, and he would like to have her returned to him."

The man gaped at the terrified slave. "You belong to the Marquis of Helvetica?"

Nadia didn't speak. Her lips parted, but no sound escaped, only the rising panic in her chest. Her wide, sapphire eyes locked onto the man's, silently begging, pleading, willing him to take her side. But he moved without a word, his expression grave as he reached for the door. Her breath caught. To her horror, the hinges creaked open. Rein darted behind the flickering glow of a chamberstick.

"Please come in," the man said solemnly.

Nadia wasn't about to give up just then. She leapt off the table and bolted toward the other end of the treehouse, desperate for a back exit. There had to be one. There had to be.

Alik had expected this, and was already moving. The abarimon footman shoved the man aside and lunged forward. His eyes snapped to a wooden platter resting on a side table half-swallowed by the tree bark. He snatched it up and hurled it across the room. The crash echoed like thunder. Wood cracked against the back of Nadia's skull. She staggered forward, struck the wall with a dull thud, then crumpled to the floor in a heap of limbs and red hair. Silent.

Rein hadn't seen it, but she heard it all. The impact. The breathless fall. The resulting stillness. She flinched, wings pressed tight against the wall behind the chamberstick, heart hammering. Her breath hitched as she fought to stay hidden, praying the treehouse's owner would help Nadia, if there was still help to give.

Then came the pounding of boots. Three more servants rushed in behind Alik. They descended upon the fallen slave girl, dragging her limp form back into the kitchen. Rough hands yanked her arms behind her and tied them tight. Another wrapped a thick rope around her throat like a leash. Alik turned to address the man, menace radiating from his stance.

"You know you can be arrested for harboring a slave?"

"Fortunately I wasn't harboring her," replied the man. "She's been here for but a minute. She came to me about her spasms."

"We are aware of her spasms," Alik said. "No miracle worker has ever been able to decipher the cause."

"I find that hard to believe," said the man.

Alik narrowed his eyes. "Why? You fancy yourself a miracle worker?"

"I am a miracle worker. And I already have a theory as to the cause of her condition, but I would need to keep her here for a little while longer if I were to come to a conclusive diagnosis. Would the marquis approve of her staying here with me for ... say ... a day?"

Alik hesitated.

"He's been wanting an answer to this for a while," said another servant whom Rein recognized to be Nazar, another one of Marquis Rallian's footmen.

"Indeed, but currently he's furious with her," Alik replied.

"Punishments can be dealt at any time. A diagnosis is limited to who can provide one, and when such a person is available."

"It is not our call."

"Leave one of us here with her, then," continued Nazar. "The others will return to Aimonbay with you, and you can request permission from the marquis. He will understand the situation whether he grants the examination or not."

Alik considered for a moment. "Very well. You will stay here with Lila. You should receive a message in the morning with the marquis's answer."

"Yes, sir."

"Wonderful," said the miracle worker. "If it helps, perhaps I could write a message to the marquis explaining my intentions and methods."

"A letter from yourself may help to assure him," Alik replied.

The miracle worker had already vanished into the adjoining room, eager to compose the letter. No one moved. They simply waited, silent and still, while the sound of his frantic scribbling echoed faintly from the next room.

On the floor, Nadia stirred. Her lashes fluttered, then squeezed shut again as even the low, flickering light scraped against the raw ache pulsing behind her eyes. A dull throb radiated from the back of her skull, and she instinctively tried to lift her hand to soothe it, only to feel the harsh resistance of rope biting into her wrists. Panic didn't rise, not immediately. Only the heavy, sinking realization. She shifted slightly and felt the polished boots of the marquis's men near her knees. That was all she needed to know. She had failed. With a faint sigh, Nadia leaned her head back against the rough wall, letting its texture ground her, letting her mind drift just enough to keep from unraveling. Then—click.

Something cold tightened around her upper arm. Her eyes cracked open. Blurred at first, then clearer: a golden cuff, freshly locked in place around her bicep. Her breath caught as she eyed the delicate engraving that shimmered faintly in the light:

Lila

Property of Sir Rallian

Marquis of Helvetica

Aimonbay Estate

Noelle Empire

"I'll take this," said another servant as he grabbed the sack she had brought with her. He opened it and found a golden ball inside. "The marquis will not be pleased to find that you stole this from him."

Nadia kept her gaze fixed on the floor, her eyes heavy with exhaustion but burning with quiet defiance. She offered no answer. There was no point, not when the truth meant nothing to those who bound her. That orb had never belonged to the marquis. It was her golden orb. It carried her curse, not his. A tear ran down her cheek before she even realized her eyes welled.

Then, at last, the miracle worker returned. He reentered the room with a folded letter in hand, its seal still warm from the wax. Without a word, he extended it toward Alik, who took it with a nod.

"Thank you for your willingness to assist. If the marquis agrees to let you examine his slave, I'm certain he will compensate you generously for your diagnosis."

"That would be very kind of him. Be sure to thank him for this opportunity for me."

"I will. Good evening."

The miracle worker ushered Alik and his men toward the door, their footsteps echoing dully as they departed into the night. Once the latch clicked shut behind them, he turned to face Nazar, who remained.

"I'm afraid I didn't get your name, sir." The miracle worker extended a hand to him.

"My name is Nazar. I am a footman at Aimonbay Estate."

"Pleasure to meet you, Nazar," said the miracle worker, shaking his hand. "My name is Rashaad. I have a second room down the hall there where you may sleep."

"I appreciate it, but I would prefer not to let Lila out of my sight. I assume she will be sleeping out here?"

"I do have two sofas in my sitting room," Rashaad offered.

"That will be perfect, thank you," said Nazar.

"Of course. Would you like anything to drink?"

"Water will do."

While Rashaad fetched the cup of water, Nazar stepped toward Nadia in silence. Without a word, he knelt beside her and loosened the rope from around her neck. The bindings at her wrists followed, cut cleanly with a flick of his blade, only to be retied at the front with a more merciful slack. No conversation passed between them, only a quiet understanding as he motioned her toward one of the two bear pelt sofas in the rustic sitting room. Nadia rose with difficulty and crossed the room, settling into the furs without protest.

Rashaad returned moments later and offered the cup to Nazar, who accepted it with a nod of thanks. "I appreciate it."

"Here's another one in case she experiences a spasm later tonight," said Rashaad.

"Fine idea." Nazar took the second cup. "I'll see you in a few hours."

"Good night."

As Rashaad leaned forward to extinguish the lone candle that lit the kitchen, his eyes landed on a faint glow—Rein, still perched behind the candlestick. He blinked, having completely forgotten she was there. She met his gaze and raised a finger to her lips, silently pleading for secrecy. Without a word, she darted into a cupboard and pulled the door shut behind her, her small hand still pressed to her mouth in a firm reminder. Rashaad hesitated for only a breath, then let it go. He snuffed the candle and took up a second chamberstick, its flame casting long shadows as he disappeared down the corridor toward his own room.

In the sitting room, the hush deepened. Nazar placed the second cup of water on the coffee table in front of Nadia, then settled back into the bear pelt sofa across from her, stretching out in silence. The fire crackled in the hearth against the adjacent wall, the only sound in the stillness.

"Sleep tight," he said to Nadia before blowing out the candle on the end table behind him.

In the stillness of the dim room, Nadia curled in on herself, willing the memories of the night to dissolve into the dark. But the more she tried to suppress them, the sharper they pressed in; the failure of her escape attempt, her recapture, and the certainty of what awaited her back at Aimonbay Estate. Her chest tightened. The ache of dread clawed up her throat, and tears threatened to betray her resolve. She bit down on the flesh of her hand to steady herself, to drown one pain with another. It did little. Warm tears slipped from the corners of her eyes. She swallowed hard, muffling the sobs before they could rise, but the soft, broken sniffles escaped into the quiet.

Across the room, she sensed a shift. Nazar turned his head toward her, catching the subtle tremor of breath she'd failed to silence. Nadia froze. She shut her eyes and held herself perfectly still, as if she could vanish into the darkness. If she didn't move, perhaps he'd say nothing. She listened to the silence between them, fragile as glass.

"Oh, go on and cry," said Nazar. "It's not as if I'll be able to return to sleep tonight anyway."

With those words, Nadia finally let the sobs come. They poured into the fur beneath her cheek, muffled but raw, until exhaustion overtook her. Though Nazar remained still across the room, whether awake or merely unwilling to sleep, Nadia's tears carried her into a restless slumber.

But peace was brief. Just hours later, a sharp, piercing pain exploded from her feet and surged up through her legs, stabbing deep into her lungs. Her breath caught. She writhed silently, forcing herself not to scream. If Nazar had managed to drift off, she would not be the one to wake him. A strangled whimper escaped her lips as she stretched her trembling, bound hands toward the cup of water left on the coffee table. The edge of her fingers grazed it, but as she leaned too far, her balance faltered and she collapsed with a soft thud to the floor. The cup tipped, spilling its contents in a useless puddle beside her.

Before the panic could rise in her chest, she heard movement. Nazar was already up, his steps swift and silent. He handed her his own cup without a word. Nadia seized it with both hands and drank in desperate gulps, knowing that only the water could drown the pain that had taken her. Gradually, the fire in her limbs faded. She let out a shuddering breath, leaned back against the wooden frame of the couch, and returned the cup to the table with unsteady fingers.

"Thank you," she whispered between breaths.

Nazar simply lay back down without another word.

As dawn spilled golden light through the slats of the wooden shutters, Nadia stirred, and agony met her like an old enemy. A strangled gasp tore from her throat as the pain flared through her legs, sharp and unrelenting. Her hands fumbled blindly for the cups on the table, desperate for relief. Her fingers found them—one, then the other—but both were bone dry. She whimpered, curling into herself as the searing heat beneath her skin worsened.

Nazar was on his feet in an instant. Without a word, he dashed into the kitchen. Nadia writhed on the sofa, her cries slicing through the silence of morning. Her voice pierced the walls, rousing the miracle worker from his slumber. He emerged from his bedroom, robes hastily thrown over his shoulders, just in time to see Nazar rushing back with two filled cups in his hands. Nadia seized the first, gulping it down so quickly the water spilled down her chin. The second she didn't drink. She hurled its contents over her burning legs. The effect was immediate. She gasped again, but this time in relief. Her body stilled. The tremors subsided. Her head sank to her side against the sofa with closed eyes and a whisper of breath.

Rashaad observed without a hint of surprise. But Nazar stood frozen, his brow furrowed with confusion. He looked from the girl to the puddle on the floor, searching her face for answers.

"I can't fathom how the other miracle workers couldn't figure it out," said Rashaad.

He stepped closer, crouching beside the sofa where Nadia lay recovering. Gently, he took hold of the hem of her burgundy harem pants and lifted the fabric just past her ankle. There—beneath the surface of her pale skin—was the shimmer of something unnatural. Faint, iridescent scales caught the morning light, glinting for only a moment before fading like a mirage. One by one, they slipped beneath her flesh, vanishing as though they had never been.

"Blinding specks!" Nazar exclaimed.

Rashaad let the fabric fall back into place and gave a small nod, confirming his own suspicions.

Nadia herself had never noticed that before. How was she going to explain that to Nazar and Rashaad, let alone her master once he learned of it?

"You know what this means, right?" Rashaad asked Nazar.

Nazar chuckled and addressed Nadia. "Oh, Sweetheart. Your master is not going to be pleased."

Nadia turned her eyes to Nazar, wide with unspoken fear. Her lips parted as if to speak, but all she managed was a trembling breath, the sob caught and swallowed before it could escape.

A sudden knock startled the silence, sharp and urgent against the wood. Rashaad stepped away and disappeared down the corridor. Moments later, the door creaked open. Standing on the other side was a courier in Aimonbay livery, dust clinging to his boots and a sealed letter in his outstretched hand, the reply they'd been waiting for.

"Wait here while I compose a response," said Rashaad.

Rashaad penned the letter swiftly, his handwriting neat but urgent. Without so much as a farewell, the servant took the sealed note and vanished into the morning. Silence settled once more. Returning to the sitting room, Rashaad lowered himself onto the arm of his leather wingback chair, his fingers idly tracing the coarse fur of the wolf pelt draped across it. The sunlight danced over his face through the seams in the closed shutters, but his thoughts were far away and heavy.

"So, Lila," he said, deciding to use the fake name with which her master had dubbed her. "Would you like to be honest with me this time and tell me what your ethnicity truly is?"

Nadia breathed deeply through her nose and peered at Rashaad with tears in her eyes.

"I wouldn't bother," said Nazar. "The marquis has been trying to literally beat it out of her for the past six years."

"Oh, so he's aware?" Rashaad asked.

"He is, he just wants to hear it from her."

"I see," said Rashaad. "Well I'm afraid your secret is officially out, Lila. Because here's the issue: it would appear that you have no blood of the land in you whatsoever, yet you clearly possess a humanoid appearance. My conclusion, and in the end my diagnosis, is that your body is fighting to revert back to its original form. You require more of whatever made this possible." Nadia didn't say a word. "So, are you able to retrieve some?"

Nadia still refused to speak.

"For the love of all that glistens, Lila!" Nazar exclaimed. "Answer the man! Aren't you sick of suffering?"

"Yes!" Nadia cried. She covered her face with her bound hands while tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Yes...?" said Rashaad, wondering which question she meant to answer.

"I am able to retrieve some," Nadia clarified. "They were crystals that I ate. It'll require I return to the ocean to retrieve more."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Nazar said to Rashaad. "I'm not sure about that."

"That is the only way she can obtain more of these crystals," Rashaad answered. "Which looks to be the only cure to this problem."

"And if she doesn't return?"

"It seems to me that she must."

"The fact that she's a slave isn't enough motivation to force her to return."

"That isn't what I'm suggesting, sir," said Rashaad. "If she had the means to live out her life in the ocean, she would have fled straight to the Aquamarine once she managed to escape, rather than run the complete opposite direction into the Lucierna Forest. I would argue that she may spend a limited time in the ocean, but eventually she must return to land. Am I correct in my assumption, Lila?"

Nadia nodded without meeting his gaze.

"That's what I thought. In which case, since she is wearing her cuff, someone will return her to the marquis if she doesn't return on her own will." He addressed Nadia again. "So, what time should Nazar tell your master that you will be back at Aimonbay?"

Nadia rubbed her face with her hands. She sighed very heavily before she whimpered, "Three days."

"Very well. Nazar will relay the message. Meanwhile, you'd better get going."

Nazar paused, the weight of the decision pressing down on him. He hesitated, torn. Should he seek the marquis's counsel first? But Nadia's condition had deteriorated sharply; her work around the estate suffered, and every day she lingered here was a risk. Surely, the marquis would agree. It was better to send her away sooner rather than later. Drawing a steadying breath, Nazar stepped forward, knife in hand. The blade gleamed cold as he carefully sliced through her bindings. Then, pressing the tip lightly against her nose, his voice dropped low and hard.

"If you're not back in three days, I will lead the next search party myself and bring the fifth tier of Barhollow with me."

Then he exited the miracle worker's home, shaking his head.

After what felt like an eternity, Rein quietly pushed open the creaking cupboard door and fluttered out. Rashaad glanced over just in time to see Rein's gaze lock onto Nadia, who had crumpled against the sofa arm, tears streaming as she sobbed uncontrollably.

"I'm assuming the marquis knows nothing about you either," Rashaad said to Rein.

"I'm honestly not certain, but I thought it wise not to risk it," she answered.

"So, what is the story here?" he asked.

"It's a long one. Let me help her on her way, and then we can share all the stories we want afterward."

Rein flew up to Nadia and tapped on her arm. Nadia paused in her sobs and lifted her head to look at Rein.

"Listen," Rein said. "You really should get going because it's half a day's journey to the Aquamarine from here. And try not to worry about what's to happen when you return. Whatever's the outcome, we'll get through it. There will be an end, and it will become just a bad memory. Now let's go."

Nadia nodded, her legs trembling as she slowly pushed herself upright. Her eyes flickered toward the miracle worker. "Thank you for your help." With that, she left the treehouse and started on her journey to the Aquamarine Ocean.

§

Rein, whose appearance hadn't aged a day in nearly a decade, decided she'd mingle with Rashaad later, and resolved to keep Nadia company on her journey to the Aquamarine Ocean. Nadia trudged forward, tears streaming, her steps slow and heavy as she made her way toward Helvetica. When her sobs finally subsided, the remainder of the trip fell into a heavy silence. Rein searched her mind for words that might ease Nadia's pain but found none, and perhaps none existed. So, she let the silence hang, and turned her thoughts to ways she could help once Nadia surfaced in three days. Eventually, she concluded that brainstorming with Polaris, the queen's imperial advisor, and his assistant, Drake, might yield better ideas.

At last, when they reached Helvetica's coast, a lone figure caught their eyes. A redhead clad in a simple black slip, standing as if waiting just for Nadia and Rein.

"Lady Ivanna," Rein addressed. "Are you here to show Nadia how to get to Moss Canyon?"

"Indeed I am," said Marchioness Ivanna.

"Even though you've never been yourself?" Rein asked, confused.

"Everyone in the Aquamarine knows how to find Moss Canyon, whether they've been or not, my dear," said Ivanna. "In either case, I'm sure Nadia would prefer not to navigate the ocean alone, especially after the morning she's had. I can even show you my estate in Ocean Rose, and we can spend all three days there."

Nadia remained silent, but when she finally lifted her gaze toward the marchioness, her eyes caught something previously unnoticed. Rein's own gaze sharpened, and she was the first to break the quiet with a whispered observation.

"Why have I never seen those scars until now?"

Faint but unmistakable, lashing scars streaked Ivanna's left arm, trailing down to the edge of her hand. Rein's eyes traced the marks further as ghostly lines etched along the left side of her back and curled up her neck.

"Because I usually dress enough to cover them," Ivanna answered, her expression stoic. "Have you not noticed that I wear sleeves even during the summer?"

"Yes, I simply figured it was a fashion statement," Rein answered.

Ivanna grinned solemnly. "No, this is the handiwork of Lord Orion with his Elvic whip."

"Can't Elion aid with that?" Rein asked.

Ivanna hesitated. "We can discuss this further when we return."

Lady Ivanna guided Nadia along the rugged coastline, the salty breeze tugging at their clothes, until they reached the cave where Nadia had been abandoned six years before.

Rein hovered above them. "Does Polaris know everything that's happened ... and is happening?"

"I wrote him a message, but I'm sure he'll have plenty of questions if you wanted to go clarify matters for him," Ivanna answered.

"Very well," said Rein. "Then that's where I'll probably be when you both return. Good luck."

"We'll see you in a few days," Ivanna replied. Rein flew off, and Lady Ivanna turned to face Nadia. "The miracle worker chose a very clever spot. It's deep here, so it's easy to transform and then immediately swim off. You may simply leave your pants here."

Ivanna gestured toward a shadowed corner of the cave for Nadia to leave her harem pants. Without hesitation, Ivanna slipped into the water, disappearing beneath the surface. Nadia followed suit, peeling off her pants and plunging after her.

Moments later, Ivanna's form transformed, her legs merging into a shimmering tail of green and purple, her iridescent scales catching the light with delicate fins trailing behind like silk ribbons. She surfaced and tossed her black slip beside Nadia's discarded pants. Soon, Nadia felt the familiar shift as her own legs fused into a blue-green tail, similar fins fluttering at the tip.

Floating side by side, Nadia's gaze drifted to Ivanna's scars, now fully unveiled. The pale, jagged lines traced from the left side of her neck, wound down her torso, and faded near her hip. Quickly, Nadia looked away, forcing a soft smile as her eyes landed on the glittering shells Ivanna wore like jeweled armor, admiring their quiet beauty.

"You keep kochylia with you. It's pretty."

"Of course," Ivanna replied with a smile. "I'll provide you with one once we arrive at my estate. Come along now, it's a bit of a journey to Ocean Rose, and we haven't much time to spare."