Xion sent the messages before dawn, each one carried by different street runners to avoid drawing attention. The notes were identical, written in his careful script on scraps of torn parchment: *Urgent. Meet today. Something has happened.*

  He'd never called a meeting before. In six months of gathering at The Amber Leaf, he'd always been the one being summoned, dragged away from his clinic to discuss their small efforts at helping Kaha'an's poor. But last night had changed something fundamental, and he couldn't keep this knowledge to himself.

  By the time he arrived at the teahouse, his hands were shaking. He'd barely slept, replaying the moment over and over—those impossible eyes shifting color in the crowd. Every time he closed his own eyes, he saw it again. Blue to amber to violet. The royal trait.

  The Amber Leaf was nearly empty at this hour, just a few merchants sharing quiet conversation over steaming cups. Xion chose their usual corner booth and tried to calm his racing thoughts. This was insane. He knew how it would sound. But he also knew what he'd seen.

  Silvanno arrived first, settling into the booth with his usual easy confidence. "Well this is new, Xion," he said, though his smile faded when he got a good look at his friend's face. "You never call these meets—we practically have to drag you away from that clinic of yours sometimes."

  Xion tried to smile back but couldn't quite manage it.

  "Man, this *is* serious." Silvanno leaned forward, genuine concern replacing his casual demeanor. "What's this about?"

  "We need to wait for Farleen," Xion replied, his voice tight.

  Kael appeared before Silvanno could press further, sliding into the booth with his usual economical movements. The young man from the minor Iron clan had a practical build, his clothes simple but well-made. "Your message was cryptic," he said without preamble. "What happened?"

  Xion opened his mouth to answer, then stopped. "Let's wait for—"

  "I'm here." Farleen emerged from the main dining area, and Xion felt his chest tighten with that familiar warmth. Her amber eyes found his immediately, and she slid into the booth beside him with an apologetic smile. "Sorry I'm late. My father had unexpected guests this morning."

  Xion took a breath. "Now that we're all here." He stopped, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "God, I don't even know where to start."

  He caught the glances his friends exchanged—the concern, the confusion. In all their months of meeting, he'd never been like this.

  "Start at the beginning," Farleen suggested, her voice gentle.

  Xion took a shuddering breath. "I think I saw her."

  Confusion rippled across the table.

  "I mean *her*—the royal heir. The princess." The words tumbled out now that the dam had broken. "Look, I know how insane it sounds, and believe me, I almost didn't believe it myself, but I swear I saw a woman whose eyes changed last night. I was trying to help a boy—Tam, his name was—and the Slavers were taking him away because of some made-up debt. I tried to intervene, and there was this woman in the crowd watching. When she saw what they were doing to him, her eyes changed color. Blue to amber to violet. The royal trait."

  He leaned forward, excitement finally breaking through his exhaustion. "If this is real, you know what this means? We can make a *real* difference, not just patch things here and there, plugging a leaky boat while more leaks spring elsewhere. We can upturn the whole damn rotten edifice!"

  The silence that followed felt deafening. Silvanno stared at him, mouth slightly open. Kael's expression shifted from confusion to concern.

  Farleen reached out and touched his arm gently. "Xion, you've been through something traumatic. Watching that boy get taken—"

  "Another one?" The words escaped Silvanno, tinged with exhaustion rather than excitement. "C'mon Xion, the last 'Princess Elara' had colored lenses in her eyes—not that it fooled anyone for long."

  "This is exactly what we talked about would happen," Kael added. "Xion, you were upset, traumatized. People see things when they're in emotional distress. Besides, we've seen what, six fake princesses in the last five years?"

  Farleen's hand found his on the table, her touch warm. "I understand why you're shaken by what happened to Tam. But are you certain about what you saw? These pretenders are getting more sophisticated with their tricks..."

  Xion's heart skipped at the contact, but he forced himself to focus. Her concern felt genuine, and part of him wanted to believe her, wanted to let this go. But he couldn't.

  "Damn it, Sil, I *know* what I saw!" Xion's voice cracked like a whip. Several patrons glanced their way. He forced himself to lower his tone, but the intensity remained. "Sorry, I shouldn't have shouted."

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  "I know you think you know what you saw," Silvanno replied gently. "But Xion, think about it. You were watching a kid get dragged away by Slavers. Your emotions were running high. Maybe the light was strange, or maybe someone in the crowd had those colored glass drops we've seen before."

  He reached across the table, his expression genuinely concerned. "I'm not saying you're lying. I'm saying maybe your mind filled in details that weren't really there."

  Xion felt his shoulders sag slightly. "I know. I know that's what I'm *supposed* to think, and trust me, I spent all last night trying to convince myself of exactly that. Why do you think I looked like hell when you walked in?" A wry grin flickered across his face before disappearing. "Sil, buddy... you know I wouldn't bring this up to you guys if I wasn't *sure*."

  Kael drummed his fingers against the table—a nervous habit Xion had learned to recognize. "Even assuming you're completely certain about what you saw—"

  "Which we're not," Silvanno interjected.

  "—which we're not," Kael agreed, "what would be the point? If she's been hidden all this time, there must be reasons. What would change now?"

  Farleen spoke up, her voice thoughtful. "These old legends about color-changing eyes, they're just that. Legends. Stories told to make the imperial line seem special, different from ordinary people."

  "The historians at Uratha have documented cases," Xion shot back. "It's not legend—it's a genetic trait passed down through the Valanar bloodline."

  Silvanno and Kael exchanged glances again. Xion could see the worry in their faces, hear the doubt in their voices. Something almost desperate had crept into his own tone.

  "Look," Silvanno said carefully, "let's say for a moment you're right. Where does that leave us? We're talking about the imperial heir, if she exists. You can't just walk up and introduce yourself."

  Xion sighed. That *was* the rub, wasn't it?

  "We can make sure," he offered, hearing the weakness in his own argument. "Make sure she's *real*, that she's out there, that she *exists* at least." He held up a hand to forestall their objections. "Wait—before you all say it, I'll save you some time. 'What if she's not like I think she is?' Or, 'What if she won't help?'"

  His expression grew pained. "I can't say you'd be wrong to bring up those things. Frankly, I don't know either. But look around us!" His arm swept around the tavern, encompassing all of Kaha'an beyond its walls. "How long have we been doing this, Sil? You and I both know we're not actually accomplishing anything with our group here. I mean sure, it feels good, and damned if I won't go to my grave trying to help, but we both know in our hearts we're just bailing water out of a sinking ship with a thimble."

  He turned his attention back to the group. "If I'm wrong, it just means a couple of fruitless days searching, and we're no worse off than we've been before. But if I'm *right*... if she exists, that means we could make real change maybe for the first time since The Rending itself. Isn't that worth a little risk?"

  The weight of his words settled over the table like dust after a sandstorm. Silvanno stared down at his hands, clearly wrestling with something.

  "Six months," Silvanno said quietly. "We've been meeting for six months, and what do we have to show for it? A few families with slightly less empty bellies. A handful of people who got medicine instead of dying in alleys."

  Kael's jaw tightened. "That's not nothing, Xion. Those people—"

  "Those people deserve better than charity," Silvanno cut him off, surprising everyone. "They deserve a system that doesn't grind them up in the first place." He looked up, meeting Xion's eyes. "Damn you for being right about that."

  Xion felt a surge of hope. Silvanno was coming around.

  Farleen leaned forward, her voice urgent now. "Even if what you saw was real—and I'm not saying it was—what would be the point? If she's been hidden all this time, there must be good reasons. Powerful people who want her to stay hidden." Her amber eyes held his, pleading. "This could be dangerous, Xion. Really dangerous."

  She cared about him. He could see it in her face, hear it in her voice. Part of him wanted to reassure her, to promise he'd be careful, to maybe even reconsider.

  But he couldn't. Not when everything might change.

  "Everything." Xion heard the certainty in his own voice, felt it in his bones. "Everything would change."

  "You're talking about overturning the entire balance of power based on a moment's glimpse," Kael said, his fingers drumming faster.

  "I'm talking about the possibility that the rightful ruler of Kaha'an is alive and might be willing to reclaim what's hers."

  The words hung in the air, heavy with implication. Xion watched his friends' faces, saw the moment they began to truly consider it—not just as his traumatic fantasy, but as something that might actually be real.

  "Two days," Xion announced, with far more conviction than he felt. "Just two days—we look for her. *Quietly*, of course. I saw her near the market square, so maybe we start there."

  "Two days," Silvanno repeated, tasting the words. "Starting at the market square."

  "Quietly," Kael emphasized. "We can't afford to draw attention. If word gets out that we're actively searching for an imperial pretender..."

  "Then we'll be discrete," Xion agreed quickly. "But I won't pretend I didn't see what I saw. Not when it might mean everything."

  Farleen bit her lip, silent for a long moment. When she finally spoke, her voice was quieter. "Where do we even start? The market square covers dozens of blocks. Hundreds of people pass through there every hour."

  Xion noticed she'd phrased it as a question, not an objection. She was coming around. The thought filled him with relief—he needed her support, needed all of them if this was going to work.

  "We ask questions," Xion said, feeling his certainty grow with each word. "Carefully. See if anyone else noticed a woman with unusual eyes, or someone who seemed out of place."

  Silvanno leaned back in his chair, studying Xion's face. "You're really going to do this, aren't you? With or without us."

  "Yes." No hesitation. "I am."

  The weight of that simple declaration settled over them like desert heat. Xion saw resolve crystallize in Silvanno's face, saw Kael's reluctant acceptance. Farleen's expression had gone distant, her gaze fixed somewhere past Xion's shoulder. When she looked back at him, there was something in her eyes he couldn't quite name—sadness, maybe. Resignation.

  "We'll help you," she said quietly.

  They were going to help him. They were actually going to search for the princess.

  Xion felt something release in his chest—relief, gratitude, hope. He wasn't alone in this anymore. And Farleen was with him. That mattered more than he wanted to admit.