Page 42 of A Dark and Drowning Tide

“Lorelei,” Sylvia said with equal venom, “Saint Bruno was the first king of Albe, widely fabled to have fallen into the Ursprung. He is a very important figure to us. Surely you understand.”

She did, unfortunately. With no map and no equipment, they had to rely on local knowledge. They had gotten this far. Surely someone in this blasted village could give them the final push.

“Very well,” she gritted out.

“Besides,” Sylvia added, “we need to restock our supplies before going anywhere.”

“Wonderful!” Emilia folded her hands. “I’ll have someone get a meal for you and show you to your rooms. I trust one of you will watch that one . . .”

Feeling vengeful, Lorelei said, “Surely, it would make everyone the most comfortable if Her Highness were to do it.”

Sylvia shot her a downright murderous look. “It would be my pleasure.”

They were brought a meal of dumplings stuffed with pork on a bed of cabbage, which Lorelei assumed was intentionally spiteful. She leftthe dumplings on her plate, which was all the same to her. Her appetite still hadn’t returned. Ludwig quietly pushed his cabbage onto her plate and acted confused when she tried to give it back. No one seemed willing to make conversation, and so, they fell into silence and retired for the night.

Lorelei was filled with a prickling dread as she ascended the stairs. Mercifully, however, the room had two beds. They looked as though they would collapse with so much as a sneeze, but there was a fire burning in the hearth and a washbasin full of fresh, clean water. When the door clicked shut behind them, Lorelei said, “I didn’t need your intercession back there.”

“No? Would you rather I let them run you out of town the next time you are so careless as to open your mouth?” When Lorelei made no immediate reply, Sylvia huffed. “I believe the words you are searching for arethank you.”

“Why waste your breath?”

“You make it very difficult to answer that question.” Sylvia dropped her bags in a heap. “Fortunately for you, some of us have principles.”

“Which you demonstrated so admirably when Heike accused me ofmurder—andwhen Johann insisted that I must be a witch.” The strangled hurt stubbornly flared within her. It felt like plunging her own hand into a fire when she asked, “Do you agree with them?”

“Of course not,” Sylvia said vehemently. “You and I may not get along, but you do not deserve that kind of treatment. I am sorry I saidnothing—truly.I was not myself.”

To her credit, she looked ashamed. It robbed Lorelei of her well-deserved vindication, but Sylvia’s apology pressed sharply against an old wound. Even as a child, Lorelei had not been easy to love. Early on, she’d found it preferable to embrace her unpleasant nature rather than undergo the agony of trying and failing to please. It had served her well while she walked as a stranger in two different worlds. Over the years, Lorelei had been inured to both the baffled mistrust of her owncommunity and the brusque impersonality of her classmates’ hatred. But in an instant, Sylvia had pierced through her armor, and the pain felt almost like relief.

Far better to be disliked for who she truly was rather than what she represented.

The expression on her face must have been telling, because Sylvia reached out as though she meant to rest a hand on her forearm. Lorelei withdrew a step, putting a safe distance between them. Her heart thudded far too loudly in her chest.

“At any rate, I suppose it must be nice to throw your weight around in a place where your name means something.” With cheerful malice, she added, “Mondscheinprinzessin.”

Sylvia groaned in exasperation. “Please don’t call me that.”

“What does it mean?”

“Nothing. It’s an old family story,” she said evasively. “Now tell me what that stunt was earlier. You were trying to get Johann alone, weren’t you?”

Lorelei set down her own bag and made her way to the washbasin. She stripped off her damp jacket and draped it over the back of an armchair. With any luck, it would dry overnight, but there was little she could do about the silt-and-iron stench of the river. With brisk efficiency, she began to undo the buttons of her waistcoat. “Am I not permitted to speak with Johann either?”

When Lorelei glanced up at her, Sylvia looked away. Her cheeks were tinged red. Lorelei eyed her suspiciously.

Sylvia cleared her throat and said, “I find myself skeptical that you would want to.”

Lorelei’s fingers stilled on the last button. She did not like the direction this conversation was headed. “Did you get along as children?”

“Most of the time, no. He was a terrible bully and liked to make Ludwig do all sorts of ridiculous things because he was so desperate to fit in. And one time, he conscripted the others to perform an exorcism on me. Itwas—”She huffed. “You’re changing the subject again.”

“You surely don’t expect me to move past the exorcism so quickly. Did it work?”

“I’m not as dense as you seem to think! Don’t you think I can see that suspicious mind of yours at work by now? When you talk to them, you have the same look in your eye as when you’re collecting folktales.”

“And what look is that?”

“This.” Sylvia contorted her features into an exaggerated rictus. “Even the tip of your nose seems to scowl. It’s quite impressive. Now, out with it. What have you uncovered?”