For a month straight, Josephine's dreams belonged to one woman: Hetragon.
The queen who had burned kingdoms now came to her in warmth. In dreams, Hetragon was gentle — she played with Josephine, spun her in endless circles of dance, braided her hair, whispered secrets only the two of them would ever know. She laughed with Josephine and wrapped her in an embrace that felt like understanding.
For the first time, Josephine smiled in her sleep. She woke each day with laughter on her lips, even if only for a heartbeat. Her classmates began to notice, and even the masked king saw her head droop during lessons, drifting into dreamland.
One morning he entered the classroom and paused. "I hope you will not fall asleep again," he said, his voice carrying a wry edge. Josephine nodded quickly, sitting straighter. Her hands were busy sketching again.
"Can I see?" he asked, holding out a hand.
She froze. No one had ever seen her drawings. They were her heart, her fears, her hidden truths. After a moment of hesitation, she passed him the book.
He flipped through page after page of her masterpieces. Dreams painted in charcoal: twirling dances with a queen, blooming forests, glowing braids. And then — shadows. Dead bodies. Faces twisted in pain. Fire swallowing halls.
"These are your dreams?" the masked king asked softly. She nodded. Beneath each drawing, careful words in her handwriting told the story: Mr. Drake Accident. The Night of Blood. The Bakery Fire.
He frowned. "Hmm. Can I borrow it? Just during lunch."
Her eyes widened in panic, hands darting forward to snatch the book back. He caught it gently, promising, "Don't worry. Nobody will see it. I give you my word, Josephine."
She paused… then slowly nodded.
The bell rang for lunch. Theron appeared and tugged Josephine toward the student yard, while the masked king called Oliver, Theodore, Anesthesia, Piere, and Callum to him.
"I will be coming to your castle because of your little sister," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "I overheard everything you said about Josephine. I hear many things. And I see too."
The group stiffened. Oliver stammered, "W…w…e uhmmm—"
"It's fine," the masked king cut in. "I asked Josephine for her sketchpad. There are dates on each page, dreams she has every time."
They gathered behind him to look. Each drawing was a story. They stopped at one chilling page: Josephine floating in the air as a child, her hair ablaze in green fire, Nana behind her, and a man crushed in her hands.
"That's Mr. Drake," Callum whispered.
"Yes," Piere confirmed grimly.
"What did he do?" the masked king asked.
Callum sat down, recounting the memory. "He tried to burn Nana's bakery with Josephine inside. He wanted to build a mansion on the land. Nana begged him to stop, but he told her she'd have to sleep with him if she wanted him to leave her alone. She refused. He brought men and fire. Josephine was only four. When he slapped Nana, something in her snapped. She floated, hair growing, eyes black and red… she killed them all. Every last one. It was bloody. Too bloody."
Tess shuddered. "That's why we keep her hair braided. At all cost."
Before more could be said, Josephine stormed in. Her forehead bled, hair messy. She was pacing, her hands flying in furious signs too fast to follow.
"Hey, hey — what's wrong?" Oliver asked.
She stamped her feet, eyes glowing faintly, the earth beneath them trembling. Tess and Theron rushed in after her.
"It's Madison and her gang," Theron snapped. "They're back. And they hurt her."
"Who?" Callum asked.
"Deus, prince of the Blue Scorpion clan. Second-best student. And Eryss, princess of the Kitsune — half fox, half vampire. The number one best."
Josephine's anger flared. She stomped harder, shaking the floor like an earthquake. Tears streamed silently down her cheeks.
The masked king stepped forward and pulled her into his arms. "Shhh. It's okay. Calm down now." He stroked her hair as she sobbed, feet still striking the floor. She signed in broken movements against his chest: They hurt me because I don't have powers… and I… I…
"I know. I know," he whispered, holding her tighter.
"We need to contact Nana fast," Tess said urgently.
"But how?" Piere asked.
"Messenger hawks," Oliver suggested.
Josephine perked up, pulling away. She grabbed paper and pencil, scribbling furiously, tears dripping onto the page. For an hour she wrote and drew, then folded the letters and pressed them into the masked king's hands.
"I will send them," he promised. She nodded weakly.
That was when Deus, Madison, and Eryss strode in.
"Oliver!" Deus barked.
"What the fuck do you want?" Oliver snapped back, eyes glowing faint.
"How dare you touch Madison!" Deus snarled, his two scorpion tails unfurling.
"How dare she touch Jojo," Therodora retorted.
Eryss bared her fangs. Madison's fingers lit with spells. The air trembled as a fight sparked.
Josephine, trembling, snapped her fingers at the masked king. He stepped in front of her.
"All of you — get out," he ordered, voice dark and sharp.
"No," Deus sneered.
The masked king's eyes flared pure red. He covered Josephine's ears and roared, his voice shaking the walls: "GET THE HELL OUT NOW!"
Even the strongest of them faltered. Their powers flickered out.
"This isn't over," Eryss hissed.
"It is, bitch," Therodora spat back.
They slunk away.
The masked king lowered his hands from Josephine's ears. "Come on. Let's send your letters."
Outside, Oliver whistled. A hawk swooped from the sky and landed gracefully on Josephine's shoulder. Anesthesia tied the letters to its back. The hawk pressed its head to Josephine's forehead, catching Nana's image and location. Then it soared away.
Josephine craned her neck, watching until the hawk disappeared. For the first time in days, she smiled faintly.
"She's smiling," Piere whispered.
"Yeah. She is," Tess said softly.
In Ravenglade, Ceillie was sweeping the bakery when the hawk landed. She gasped, untied the letters, and read Josephine's handwriting.
Dear Nana,
I really, really, really miss you. I always wait every weekend but you never come, and it breaks my heart.
Mama gave me seventy lashes on my feet. They still hurt. Papa put me in a school where I sit in an empty classroom alone.
There are bullies. They insult me. They injure me. Tess, Piere, Callum, and my siblings protect me, but for how long?
Nana, strange things happen. My hair glows. When I stomped my feet, a mountain collapsed. Please come. Please. I beg you.
Love,
Your Josephine
Ceillie's broom clattered to the floor as tears streamed down her face. "My Jojo…"
Back in King Hendrick's castle, a council of kings was in session. Josephine burst in. Her eyes flickered black then normal, like a broken lantern. Hendrick shot up.
"Jojo, love?" he asked, alarmed.
"What the hell—" he muttered as she staggered. Before she could lose control entirely, hawks swooped through the open windows, letters tied to their legs. Josephine collapsed onto the floor and ripped them open.
She read Ceillie's reply.
My Dearest Jojo,
Please forgive me for leaving. I miss you too. On your brother's coronation, I promise I will come — just for you.
Here are your favorites: blueberries, lava cinnamon buns, cherry pie, honey crisp chicken. Share with everyone.
I love you, Jojo.
With all my love,
Nana (Ceillie)
Josephine sobbed soundlessly, her body trembling.
"Poor child," said King Nereon of the vampires, his deep voice sorrowful.
"Yes," murmured King Azul of the elves.
Josephine stood, went to the dining table, and unwrapped the flasks. She handed food to her siblings and friends, then devoured what was left. She washed her hands, then slipped away for a bath.
"Oliver. Come here," Hendrick barked. His voice was hard. "In fact, all of you. Now."
They shuffled forward nervously.
Josephine's eyes had been pure black.
"So tell me," Hendrick growled, "what the fuck is going on?"
Oliver faltered. "W…well, Father, we don't know everything. But today she stomped her feet and caused an earthquake in the academy. We've been researching, but we can't explain it yet."
"A serious earthquake?" King Azul demanded.
"Yes, your highness," Anesthesia admitted.
"When you discover the truth," said King Abel of the sirens and merfolk, "you will tell us all. Immediately."
The group bowed.
Later that night, Josephine fell asleep.
Far away, in his shadowed castle, the masked king rocked his infant son to sleep. His vision drifted back, again and again, to Josephine. Watching her slumbering face, he muttered under his breath:
"Hmmm…"
And though he tried, he could not look away.