CH304 · Rewrite
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Chapter 304: An Unexpected but Pleasant Surprise

May had not expected to want to return.

The last time she’d sailed the Redwater River toward Border Town, her chest had been tight with anxiety and something close to resentment — a woman forced by circumstance to go somewhere she hadn’t chosen. Now the woods along both banks had turned yellow at the edges, the breeze carried the first real bite of autumn, and the river shimmered under a low October sun. Fallen leaves moved past the ship’s hull like small orange boats. Looking at it, she felt something that took her a moment to name.

Peace. Something like that.

“Miss May.” A voice behind her — careful, almost reverent.

She turned. A cluster of actresses had gathered at the railing: young women, most of them barely started on their training, watching her with the particular expression of people working up to a question they’d been arguing about all morning. The one in front — Swallow — had the expression of someone who had lost the argument about who had to ask it.

“Is it true that His Highness wrote Witch Diary for you personally?”

Irene appeared at the edge of the group, bowing apologetically. “I couldn’t answer it. They wouldn’t stop asking.”

This fool. May had spent enough months with Irene to have softened past the point where she’d simply dismiss the lot of them with a look. She sighed instead. “His Highness didn’t write it for me. Lady Scroll wrote Witch Diary.”

“Uh — is that so?” Swallow blinked. “But at the time you argued with Bella, we all thought—”

“‘His Highness wrote it’ and ‘His Highness wrote it for me’ are not the same sentence.” May let that sink in. “But he did endorse the script and the performance. So when Bella insulted the writing, she was insulting something His Highness had supported. That part was true.”

The question she’d answered opened twelve more. Gray hair, good looks, romantic disposition, rumored lovers — the questions came in an undifferentiated rush that lasted until Rosia waded in and herded them away, offering May an apologetic smile.

“No harm done,” May said. She turned back to the river. “I invited the trouble.”

Rosia lingered. “I still don’t understand why you brought them. Thirty-five people — two have stage experience, twenty-six haven’t even finished their courses. They’re still inside the egg, as you put it. If the Lord’s requirements aren’t very demanding, His Highness still won’t — even if you want to retaliate against Bella, you should have taken better supporting actresses.”

“I don’t intend for all of them to perform.”

Rosia went still.

“They can read a script,” May said. “They can read and write — all of them. Did you really not notice?” She glanced sideways. “Do you think Roland Wimbledon loves drama so much he recruited us for a play?”

“This…”

“If it were Lord Petrov — yes. He went to the theater every week before he took over Longsong Stronghold. But His Highness Roland, beyond watching the opening night of something new, never appears in the town square. He isn’t promoting drama for his own pleasure. He’s using it to move ideas through the population.” May let the river take her attention for a moment before she continued. “The early plays all argued the same things: resist oppression, witches aren’t evil. The new ones — The Dawn of a New Era, New City — they’ve shifted. They recruit. They say that a person can make something of themselves through their own effort. I’m simply following his idea and using the small power I currently have.”

Rosia was quiet for a moment. “I never thought about it that way.”

“Understanding the whole story is part of what makes a good actor. You have to put yourself inside the character, yes — but also inside the larger shape of what the work is trying to do.” May shrugged. “And even if none of them ever step on a stage, they can find work in Border Town. City Hall, administrative positions — His Highness doesn’t care about status or family background. That door is easier than the stage, and it’s open.”


The vessel arrived at the Border Town pier in the early afternoon.

Ferlin Eltek was waiting on the dock. Of course he was — he was here for Irene, not for anyone else, and the moment Irene saw him she broke into something close to a run. May watched her throw herself into his arms and felt a quiet, clean sadness that she had made her peace with over the past months.

“The first knight of the Western Territory,” Swallow said somewhere behind her, voice hushed with admiration. “I thought he and the theater star were—”

“Anyone who says another word on that subject,” May said, “carries her own luggage to the City Hall.” Silence. “Good. Disembark, all of you. Ghent and Rosia will handle registration.”

She walked down the pier alone, and Carter Lannis was not on it. He had promised — his letter had used the phrase a pleasant surprise — but important men kept different schedules than actors, and she had long since stopped expecting to be the priority.

She carried her own luggage to the residential district, let herself into her room, set down her bags, and stood for a moment in the particular quiet of a space that has been empty. She found the white wine in the cupboard and was reaching for a glass when someone knocked.

Carter’s frame filled the doorway, sweat at his temples, breath controlled by a man who had been moving quickly and didn’t want to show it. “The boat docked half an hour early,” he said. “The moment I heard, I came directly from the barracks.”

She realized her mood had lifted — completely, without her deciding it. “Do you want a drink?”

“I still have duty this afternoon.”

“Of course.” She nodded. “His Highness comes first.”

“I came to give you something.” He reached into his coat and produced a small white wooden box. Handed it to her.

She opened the lid.

A ring. Gold-orange metal, set with a clear stone that caught the autumn light coming through the window and broke it into colors across the wall. This was not a market item. Nobles gave rings for one reason, and the weight of it in her palm was telling her exactly what she hadn’t yet let herself hear clearly.

She covered her mouth.

“Miss May.” Carter met her eyes without flinching. Whatever he felt showed in his steadiness — not performance, not demand. Steadiness. “Are you willing to marry me?”

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