Prologue

Kenntrips followed Cordula through passageways meant for servants. They were headed to Hannelore’s room—which was strange, he thought, since men weren’t usually permitted on the dormitory’s third floor. The rule existed to protect the girls living there, enforced so strictly that even a retainer serving the archducal family would rarely be granted an exception.

So why me?

Because he could explain things to Hannelore that Cordula couldn’t? It felt like a flimsy excuse—certainly not enough to justify entering a young woman’s quarters. Kenntrips winced at each creak beneath his feet, terrified someone might catch him.

“This way, Kenntrips. Hurry.”

He slipped from the passageway and darted through the door Cordula held open. Past the retainers’ room, he saw her—Hannelore, for the first time in ten days. She looked dazed, as if she had just woken, but at least she was seated in a chair rather than floating.

As he drew closer, Kenntrips noticed that Hannelore still gave off a faint glow, the lingering traces of the goddess’s divine power making him slightly uneasy. Thankfully, she didn’t blast him or Cordula away, as her possessor once had. She turned at the sound of their approach, and Kenntrips saw that her eyes were no longer the yellow of divine descent. They had returned to their familiar red.

“My apologies, Kenntrips,” Hannelore said, her consideration assuring him she was no longer hosting a goddess. “I understand it must be...uncomfortable to be on the girls’ floor, but Cordula insisted this was the only way I could receive your report.”

Hannelore’s consciousness hadn’t returned when the goddess departed, and Kenntrips had feared it never would. Seeing her now, exactly as he remembered her, nearly brought a tear to his eye.

Thank goodness she’s back.

“Would you tell me what happened after the gazebo’s magic circle lit up?” Hannelore asked.

“Do you recall that your farewell caused light to rise from your charm an