Her raven waves of hair cascaded down her back. The coral chiffon of her dress popped beautifully against the olive tone of her skin. In her arms she held a small rabbit. A smirk was already forming on her lips, and I knew that couldn’t be a good sign.

“Working with Markis Linus Berling,” I told her as I got to my feet. Linus glanced at both Astrid and myself, and then he got up. “You don’t have to stand.”

“What?” He looked uncertainly at me, like it was a trick. “But … you did.”

“Of course she did,” Astrid said as she walked over to us, absently stroking the white rabbit. “She’s the help, and I’m a Marksinna. She has to stand whenever anyone higher up than her enters the room, and that’s everyone.”

“As the Markis Berling, you only need to stand for the King and Queen,” I said, but Linus still didn’t seem to understand.

“Bryn, aren’t you going to introduce us?” Astrid asked as she stared up at him with her wide dark eyes, but he kept looking past her, down at the rabbit in her arms.

“My apologies, Marksinna. Linus Berling, this is Astrid Eckwell.” I motioned between the two of them.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Linus said, and gave her a lopsided smile.

“Likewise. Are you going to the anniversary party tomorrow?” Astrid asked.

“Um, yeah, I think so.” He turned to me for confirmation, and I nodded once.

“He will be there with his parents.”

Astrid looked at me with contempt in her eyes. “I suppose that means you’ll be there too.”

“Most likely I will be assisting Markis Berling and the Högdragen,” I said, and I didn’t sound any more thrilled about it than she did.

“You better dig something nice out of your closet.” She cast a disparaging look over my outfit. “You can’t go to the party wearing your ratty old jeans. That might fly for the trashy Skojare, but you know that won’t do for the Kanin.”

I kept my hands folded neatly behind my back and didn’t look down. As a tracker, I had to dress appropriately for many different occasions, and I knew there was nothing wrong with my outfit. I might be wearing dark denim, but they were nice.

“Thank you for the tip, Marksinna, but I’m certain that you won’t be speaking derogatorily of the Skojare anymore, as their King, Queen, and Prince have already arrived in the palace for tomorrow’s anniversary party,” I replied icily. “You wouldn’t want them to hear you speaking negatively of them, since they are King Evert and Queen Mina’s guests.”

“I know they’re here,” Astrid snapped, and her nostrils flared. “That’s why I’m dressed properly today, unlike you. What would the King of the Skojare say if he saw you running around like that?”

“Since he’s a gentleman, I’m sure he would say hello,” I said.

Taking a deep breath through her nose, Astrid pressed her lips into a thin, acrid smile. “You are just as impossible as you were in school. I can’t believe they let you be a tracker.”

When she spoke like that, it wasn’t hard to remember back when we’d been kids in grade school together. I couldn’t have been more than six or seven years old the first time Astrid pushed me down in the mud and sneered at me as she called me a half-breed.

For the past century or so, the Kanin had been trying to reduce their reliance on changelings. If there were multiple children in a family, only one would be left as a changeling. It wasn’t uncommon for particularly wealthy families to go a whole generation without leaving one.

And in Astrid’s case, both her parents had been changelings, so they were freshly infused with cash from their host families and didn’t need their child to bring in more of an income.

So, unfortunately, that left me forced to deal with Astrid all through grade school. There were many times when I wanted nothing more than to punch her, but Tilda had always held me back, reminding me that violence against a Marksinna could damage my chance of being a tracker.

That hadn’t stopped me from hurling a few insults at Astrid in my time, but that had been long ago, before I’d joined the tracker school. Now I was sworn to protect the Marksinna and Markis, which meant I wasn’t even supposed to speak ill of them.

Astrid knew that, and it pleased her no end.

“Linus, if you ever need any real help, you can always ask me,” she said, with her derisive gaze still fixed on me. “You mustn’t be forced to rely on an inferior tutor like Bryn.”

“Markis,” Linus said.

Startled, she looked up at him. “What?”

“You called me Linus, but I’m your superior, right?” he asked as he stared back down at her. “That’s why I didn’t have to stand when you came in?”

“That’s…” Her smile faltered. “That’s correct.”

“Then you should call me Markis,” Linus told her evenly, and it was a struggle for me not to smile. “If I’m understanding correctly.”

“You understand it right, Markis,” I assured him.

“Yes, of course you are, Markis.” Astrid gave him her best eat-shit grin. “Well, I should let you get back to your lessons. I’m sure you have much to learn before tomorrow night’s ball if you don’t want to make a fool of yourself.”

She turned on her heel, the length of her dress billowing out behind her. Once she was gone, I let out a deep breath, and Linus sat back down at the table.