“They have children.”

“Four of them,” Valaine replied, slightly amused. “I don’t know what it is about the Makios bloodline, but they never had fertility problems.”

“Are they the only ones?”

She shook her head. “There are others, a couple minor dynasties. It’s rare, still, but not rare enough to build effigies of their forefathers, if you know what I mean.”

The door opened, and a young-looking Aeternae woman appeared in the frame. Wearing a simple, pale gray skirt with a white, frilly shirt, she wore her curly blonde hair in a loose bun, and gold teardrop earrings hung from her ears. Her blue eyes widened when she recognized Valaine.

“Lady Crimson,” she breathed. “What an honor to have you come to our door! Please, do come in!”

“Thank you, Maritza,” Valaine replied, and we made our way into the hallway, then the living room to our left.

It was a pretty home, with pale blue walls and sculptural white molding that framed the ceiling. A crystal-and-brass chandelier came down, with small candles mounted on each of the thirty arms. They were half lit, and Maritza joined us, holding a box of long matchsticks. We’d caught her in the process of preparing for the evening.

We sat on the large gray velvet sofa, and Maritza offered us fresh blood. I took a moment to observe my surroundings, admiring the dark wood mantel and the matching, sturdy bookcase, filled with thick, leather-bound volumes of Aeternae literature. There were dozens of small paintings on the walls, a combination of portraits, scenery, and still life—a harmonious balance meant to portray an equally harmonious family life.

Every object in this room had been carefully handpicked to match everything else. A lot of care and attention had gone into the décor, and there was nothing in here that would suggest Egan’s extremist tendencies.

We waited until Maritza came back with a small crystal pitcher, from which she poured fresh Rimian blood into our lily-shaped glasses. “What brings you into our humble home, milady?” the Aeternae asked.

“Do you mind if I ask, where are your children?” Valaine replied.

Maritza frowned slightly. “Upstairs, taking their afternoon nap. They’ve had a full day.”

“How so? The study season is over, isn’t it?”

“It is. But they learn new subjects outside of it, and the boys have also taken up swordsmanship. We try to keep them busy during the holidays, as well, as much as we can,” Maritza said. “They have more energy when they’re young. Their minds are perfect for learning.”

Valaine nodded slowly. “Listen, Maritza, there is no good way to say this, so I’m just going to say it. Can you please sit down?”

The good humor left her with incredible speed. She lowered herself into an armchair a few feet across from us, hands fumbling with one another in her lap. “What’s wrong, milady?”

“It’s about Egan,” Valaine replied. “I’m sorry, but he’s dead.”

Maritza sucked in a breath, the color instantly draining from her face. “What… Why? How?!”

“For the sake of your children, I need you to remain calm,” Valaine said, reaching out. She took Maritza’s hands in hers, squeezing them gently as a means to comfort the Aeternae.

“I… I don’t understand,” she murmured, tears gathering in her eyes.

“Egan was a Darkling. He attacked me and my friend here. We had no choice,” Valaine said. “I didn’t even know it was him until we took his mask off.” She went on to tell Maritza about last night’s attack and our visit to the orphanage, laying out the details of the subsequent attack, while the woman sobbed and struggled to process everything that she was told.

For a moment, I saw rage flaring in her bloodshot eyes, but it soon faded, as Valaine further explained the circumstances which had led to her husband’s death. It took a good half hour to get Maritza back into a functional state, but she did it. Personally, I was impressed with Valaine’s ability to command a person like that, despite the tragedy that had clearly befallen Maritza Makios.

“I was only defending myself,” Valaine concluded. “If I could turn back time, I would… but I worry the result would be similar, if not the same.”

“The Darklings were determined to kill us both,” I added, my voice low.

“Who are you, exactly?” Maritza managed, her lower lip quivering as she looked at me.

“Tristan Vaughn.”

“One of the outsiders,” Valaine clarified. “He’s been helping with our investigation into the Darklings, Maritza. And I had no idea it would make us cross paths with your husband. Please, accept my condolences.”

“I… I don’t understand,” the Aeternae sobbed. “Egan is a good provider… a gentle husband. A patient father. A loyal Aeternae. It doesn’t make sense. Why would he do such a thing?”

“We don’t know.” Valaine sighed, lowering her gaze as she stared at the black-and-white thread she’d retrieved from Egan’s pocket. “This is a distinguishing mark among the Darklings, it seems. Do you recognize it? Have you, perhaps, seen it before—maybe around the house?”

Maritza stared at the braid for a while, then shook her head. “No.”

“Did Egan stay out at night for longer than he should have? Did his behavior seem off at any time?” Valaine asked.

Maritza shook her head again. “No. Milady, believe me. I had no idea this was going on. I would’ve talked to him about it. I would’ve notified the master commander himself, if necessary. We are the empire, and the empire is a part of us. I would never have anyone in my family associated with the Darklings.”

“Do you know anything about this faction? Has Egan ever talked about them?” I asked, analyzing her expression carefully. Her heartbeat was rapid and irregular. It did not exude grief, but rather… anger. Red-hot anger.

Valaine glanced at me for a moment, and I could see it in her eyes. She had a hard time believing what Maritza was telling us. But we had to go easy on her, nonetheless. She was probably simply trying to defend her family honor, but surely she must’ve seen the signs. Egan couldn’t have led such a perfect double life—not without his spouse noticing.

“No. Egan did his job, he came home and put blood on the table. He never gave me any reason to doubt him,” Maritza insisted.

“You don’t think he kept any secrets?” I replied, raising an eyebrow.

For the third time, she shook her head, this time more vehemently. “Never! Egan was a good soulmate… and now he’s gone.” She was about to cry again, when Valaine offered her a handkerchief.

“I need you to focus, Maritza,” she said, watching as the Aeternae wiped her tears with delicate patting motions. “Maybe Egan didn’t tell you anything specifically, but he must have let something slip without even realizing it. Or maybe you noticed something shifting in his behavior, something that didn’t quite fit the Egan you know and love.”

Maritza stilled, her head low. She started trembling, then looked up at us—she was laughing. It wasn’t healthy-looking laughter. It sounded more like a maniacal cackle. And it made my blood run cold.

“You silly cow!” Maritza spat. “First you kill my husband, and then you expect me to participate in your garbage attempt at psychology?”

Valaine froze, her eyes blank with confusion. “Maritza.”

“Maybe I’ll be the one to kill you. Maybe I’ll be the one to end the cycle this time around,” she hissed. The glint of a silver dagger caught my eye as she produced it from a hidden pocket in her skirt.

Maritza lunged forward, going straight for Valaine’s head.

I intercepted her, and we tumbled across the floor, taking down the coffee table with its pitcher and glasses in the process. Glass shattered and blood splattered. I struggled to get the knife out of Maritza’s hand, but she was vicious and remarkably strong.

“Tristan!” I heard Valaine scream, followed by the familiar thudding and jingling of gold armor soldiers. The two we’d had with us had already stormed into the house, but no one could do much, as I was too close to Maritza.

She clawed at my neck and managed to cut deep. I hissed from the pain and slapped her hard, enough to momentarily daze her. I grabbed the knife and threw it to the side, but Maritza quickly came to and kicked me away with such strength that I was projected backward like a rag doll. I rammed into the bookcase, the wood shelves splintering against my shoulder blades and knocking the air from my lungs.

I saw Maritza darting toward Valaine with her claws out. She was going for the kill, and my heart stopped for a moment.

Valaine ripped her throat out in a fit of rage, and Maritza fell to the floor, her head almost fully severed—much like I’d done to one of the Darklings back in the orphanage. Looking at it now, I realized how feral I must’ve seemed to her, for she looked like a beast now, breathing heavily, her hands glazed with blood.

“Milady!” one of the guards said, his claws out. “Are you all right?”