It was the following day when both Garten and Vitton returned to the cell. They emerged from the corridor leading to the cell side by side. At the other end, Emma saw several guards, no doubt escorts for the two bucks. She wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or worried that they were being kept at a distance.

“And how are our favorite prisoners?” Garten’s tone was mocking, and it brought a smirk to Vitton’s face.

“None the better for your asking,” Emma answered coolly.

“Careful, little doe,” Vitton replied, his eyes glinting. “It could always be worse.”

Jo, who had been resting in his nest of blankets, raised himself up to regard the two older bucks. His face wore an expression Emma couldn’t quite read. The fear that had come when Vitton last visited wasn’t visible, nor did Jo seem to demonstrate any contempt. Focused was the best term she could think of for how he appeared, and she wondered if this was the look he had worn when shooting his bow before his capture.

“Victory Day is near at hand, miss Emma,” Garten said, noting Jo’s expression but apparently dismissing it. “Soon we will commemorate the great triumph of Lord Morbin and the unification of Natalia under his rule. You two will be present for the festivities in Akolan. There is much to be celebrated this year, and we want you properly prepared.”

“Forgive me, but I think we’ll have to decline your invitation.” Emma moved so that she was standing between Jo and the cell door but off to one side, giving him a clear view of the unwanted guests. “And not just because we have no wish to watch you celebrate your treachery and murder of your own kind and the cruelty of your masters. Jo is, as a result of your truly appalling lack of hospitality, unfit for any such exertions.”

“Oh, he won’t have to worry about walking anywhere,” Vitton cackled. “My guards will be happy to bring him to a dock, where one of the Preylords will be able to provide him with aerial transport. You’d like a repeat of that, wouldn’t you Shanks? Though I fear the raptor that bears you may have to grip uncomfortably tight-you’ve gotten ever so thin since your arrival.”

“I’m afraid Lord Morbin will insist on your attendance, Emma,” Garten said with a thin smile. “You see, he’s determined to send a message that will put an end to the pitiful rebellion scattered across Natalia. It has long since ceased to amuse him, particularly with the losses of Redeye Garlackson and his cousin General Flox. But as even your capture and Lord Morbin’s vast army aren’t enough to compel surrender, it seems we must resort to harsher measures.”

Despite herself, Emma smiled. “Oh, the free rabbits of Natalia haven’t seen fit to join you in licking Morbin’s talons? That must have come as quite a disappointment.”

“Your friends have managed to escape their little hideaway,” Garten remarked drily. “Evidently they didn’t see fit to accept the offer of peace under the rule of Prince Kylen. No doubt you surrendered yourself merely to give them time to evacuate. Clever, but ultimately futile.

“The Terralains have sided with Lord Morbin. First Warren belongs to the birds of prey. Your pitiful resistance is a fractured shadow of the vaunted army that served the old king. And the prince, the foolish young figurehead, is dead.”

With a start, Emma realized that it wasn’t only her heritage she had failed to confide in Jo about. She had also, perhaps because of how closely the two facts were tied, not spoken of the death of Prince Smalls. Hearing a noise behind her, she feared that this revelation had proven devastating to Jo. The last thing she expected was for him to suddenly appear alongside her, shaking with exertion but standing as he defied the arch-traitor.

“Can’t bring yourself to speak King Jupiter’s or Prince Smalden’s names, coward? Or is it easier to bury your guilt and speak your lies when you don’t think of those you’ve betrayed as real rabbits? My mother died because of your treason, and my father was left a broken rabbit. And my family is only one of the many to be so wounded.

“Justice comes for you and your masters, Wrongtreader. As it came for Redeye and for Garlacks, and for this Flox you spoke of. For the Grimbles, and for the dragons if the old stories have any truth. Every enemy of rabbitkind meets the same fate in the end, and so does every rabbit who sides with them.

“If you think that you are an exception, then you’re a bigger fool than I took you for. You have traded your soul and your kind for a place to grovel at Morbin’s feet until he kills you. So go ahead and mock us, and take whatever profane pleasure it brings you. It will be cold comfort, I guess, when Morbin tires of your flattery. Unless it should happen that you live long enough to see him slain by Prince Jupiter Smalls!”

Vitton and Garten’s faces went through several changes as Jo spoke. At first they appeared as stunned as Emma by Jo’s display. Then they looked angry, and then-wonder of wonders-she could see fear appear on their visages. But then Vitton’s expression changed, and a cruel gleam appeared in his eyes.

“Oh, Prince Jupiter Smalls shall slay Lord Morbin, shall he? Perhaps you missed Ambassador Longtreader mentioning that he was dead? That was no lie, boy. Didn’t your new cellmate share the news with you?”

Seeing the obvious glee in his tormentor’s eyes, Jo turned to regard Emma. His eyes searched hers, and with a sinking heart she nodded her head. The confirmation seemed to rob Jo of whatever sudden strength he had found in his defiance. His knees buckled, and Emma only just reached his side in time to prevent him from falling to the floor.

Laughing grotesquely, Vitton went on in a loud voice. “Dearie me, how inconsiderate of you, little princess! Still, I suppose you can be forgiven for not wanting to talk about it. It wasn’t until after his death that you learned he was your own brother, was it?”

“Enough, Vitton,” Garten said, in a tone that suggested that his subordinate had said more and more loudly than was appropriate. For once, Vitton actually looked contrite, bobbing his head in acknowledgment and stepping back. Once certain of the other buck’s silence, Garten turned to the two prisoners. “A pretty speech, young Jo-but you should be sure of your facts before making such claims.

“The bearer of the Green Ember is dead, and his successor is in our hands. Prince Kylen and the Terralains are a force that your pitiful resistance cannot oppose. And they themselves are nothing to the forces of the Preylords and the wolves. Still, they are useful, much as Prince Winslow has been.”

“Do you intend to betray him, as you did King Jupiter?” Emma spoke accusingly, determined to salvage what she could of Jo’s impressive tirade.

Garten scowled. “Perhaps I am amending the treachery of others, Princess. It was your father who passed over his eldest son, just as Walter Good passed over his. Perhaps it is my part to make a world where eldest sons receive their due, and younger children know their place.”

His tone was such that Emma distinctly sensed that he wasn’t just talking about the tumultuous relationships of the royal family of rabbitkind. She pondered that, even as Garten informed the pair that Vitton would visit them again tomorrow to prepare them for the so-called Victory Day festivities. It was a relief when both of the unpleasant bucks departed, collecting their guards as they went. Then, unexpectedly, a doe slave emerged from a hidden alcove.

As she approached with a tray of food and water, Emma recognized her. It was Sween, the doe who had taken the copy of Heather’s story from her the other day. Kneeling down, Sween slid the tray through the small aperture in the barred cell door that existed for that purpose. But instead of rising, she remained on her knees and bowed her head briefly before raising shining eyes to Emma.

She knew.

Emma gave her a nod of acknowledgment, unable to bring herself to speak. Seeming to recognize this, Sween collected the old tray and departed quickly. This left the two prisoners alone, having neither spoken nor made eye contact since Emma had caught the collapsing Jo. A palpable silence was finally broken by Jo’s voice.

“You’re…a princess?”

Emma still couldn’t bring herself to look at him. “Yes…it seems I am.”

“Then…how long have you known?”

“Just a few days. It was a secret meant to protect me. I only found out after…after my brother…”

Wordlessly, Jo took her hand in his remaining one again. For long minutes they sat there, silent and staring anywhere but at each other. At last, Emma turned her eyes to Jo. In the dim light, she couldn’t make out his expression, but his posture seemed oddly stiff.

“If I had known…before…I would have told you.”

Jo’s answering tone held no accusation, only sadness. “Then why didn’t you tell me when we were catching each other up?”

“There was already so much to tell you,” Emma said meekly, her face heating. “And…it really was so good to see you again Jo. I wanted to enjoy our friendship again…without complicating things. You don’t know what it’s been like since others have found out, or told me that they knew. It was hard enough having Picket and Heather acting so strangely towards me…and then finding out why.”

Offering no comment, Jo sat quietly a moment before speaking again. “It clears up a few things for me. A few of the arrangements of that misadventure where we were last together always puzzled me. Like Windanner being sent with…with your brother…when you were clearly the superior medic.”

“Windanner was just as capable-“

“Spare me the modest doctor routine, Emma,” Jo interrupted, some of his old humor back in his voice. “I got to watch both of you at Cloud Mountain. Windanner was competent enough, but sending him with your brother instead of you was the equivalent of sending me along with him as a swordsbuck, instead of Picket. But since I was just a soldier, I didn’t question it, even though it made no sense.

“Except, of course, that it made perfect sense if your safety was also a priority. Putting you in the advance party made it more likely that, if one party or the other were attacked, one of the heirs would escape. That’s why Helmer took charge of you himself. It’s why he was reluctant to let you take any additional risks, but allowed you to rather than be forced to explain his reasoning.”

Marveling at Jo’s reasoning, Emma could offer no counter argument. His unexpected insights cast new light on matters she had rarely if ever considered before. Emma wondered at Jo’s recollection of details she barely recalled after nearly a year’s time. A possible explanation occurred to her, and she squeezed his hand.

“You’ve thought about that day a lot, haven’t you?”

A weary sigh escaped Jo. “In between being drugged, tortured, and snatches of nightmare-filled sleep? Yes. Remembering our friends…remembering you…has been about the only thing that’s kept me going. I’ve held out hope that, whatever happened to me, the rest of you would carry on.”

Hopeful as the words sounded, Emma detected sadness in Jo’s voice. And this sadness was not the old, familiar ache of losing his hand. This was fresh, as though Jo had received news of some loss or other. She couldn’t think what it could be, when none of the tidings she had given him previously had so affected him. Perhaps something their visitors had said?

“Jo, what’s wrong? I can tell that you’re upset about something.”

“It’s nothing, Emma.”

“Please, Jo, don’t shut me out. I’m sorry you found out from them instead of me. But please, I want to know how you’re feeling. Even if it’s ‘mad at Emma.’”

For a while Jo said nothing. He started to unclasp his hand from hers, but Emma gripped it firmly. Jo looked down at that. His shoulders drooped, and when he raised his eyes to meet hers, she could make out the faint shine of tears in them.

“Remembering…isn’t all I did, Emma. That’s how it started though. I thought about your kindness to me-gentle and no nonsense by turns. Your bravery and your wit helped me endure the darkness in which I’ve been living.

“But being apart from you hurt, Emma. When you released me from the hospital, I was sad to be saying goodbye to you. Then the mission came, and it seemed we’d get to see each other at least a while longer. And then Solus took me.

“The last thing I heard from anyone as I was being carried away was your scream. I remembered that, too. Thinking of the pain that must have caused you…what thinking I was dead may have caused you…was as bad as anything Vitton did to me. And I found myself missing you more and more…and hoping among all my hopes that I would be able to see you again.

“You are my friend, Emma-now and always. But, after a time here, I began to hope for more. And I promised myself that, if I ever got out of here, I would do everything in my power to find you. Find you and find out…if you felt the same.”

Emma stared at him, her heart thumping in her chest. The world was determined, it seemed, to throw her off balance. First was the truth about her heritage and the death of her brother. Then came Bleston’ betrayal and Lord Rake’s death. And then had come finding Jo alive, and now…this.

However, even as she reeled from Jo’s admission, Emma noticed how sad he still seemed. It didn’t seem like sadness that this was how and where his feelings had been expressed. This was more like the disappointment he had expressed at his failure to win the Halfwind Archer’s Cup. Yet it felt deeper, somehow.

“Why…would that upset you, Jo?”

“Oh, I suppose it’s just that I should be used to personal disappointment by now,” Jo replied. “I wanted to win the Archer’s Cup, and I choked. I wanted to impress Lord Captain Helmer and Prince Smalls, and I got myself captured. My whole life I worked towards becoming a master archer…and now I only have one hand.

“As it turns out, yet another of my aspirations was an ill-fated delusion. Maybe we can at least chalk this one up to a combination of things. Ignorance, fatigue, pain, delirium from whatever potions I was being force fed. Really, it’s not surprising-“

“Jo.” Emma’s single word carried a weight to it. “You’re rambling. What exactly do you mean by ‘delusion’?”

“…I’m a commoner, Emma. And not just a commoner, but an orphan. My prospects have never been all that good, and that,” Jo said, raising his stump of an arm, “was before I was maimed. I can no longer be what I’ve spent my whole life training to be.

“There’s nothing I could offer any doe…never mind a princess. I should probably be grateful about this much. Never would I have wished for you to become a prisoner here. But at least if we ever get out of here, I won’t make a fool of myself in front of anyone else by trying to start something I have no right to start.”

During the past year, Emma had experienced many things that had angered her. Learning that Kyle had betrayed Cloud Mountain to Morbin. Watching Aubray killed and Jo carried off by the talons of Solus. Kyle, or Kylen, reappearing with his father and both of them being esteemed as heroes. Bleston’s treachery, that of Perkinson, and the ensuing losses.

Yet, somehow, Jo’s words sparked a fury that was even more intense. Perhaps it was the fact that those other occasions had been affected by distance, and by other emotions. Shock, dismay, grief, fear for Emma’s own life and the lives of her dearest friends. But none of those feelings were here now; instead, she was simmering with indignation.

“Maybe all you’ve been through has affected your brain, Jo. Because that is the single most foolish thing I have ever heard you say. And with you, that’s saying something.” Emma raised a hand to forestall an incredulous outburst from him.

“No good doe would dismiss you simply because of your situation, past or present. There are more important things than financial stability. Kindness, love, and a dedication to what’s right are also traits to look for in a partner. And I’ve never known you to lack any of them.

“So if you’ve no more ridiculous objections to raise, Mr. Shanks, I have just one question for you. Would you be so kind as to accompany me on a walk?”

And walk they did.