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Raphael was quiet for a long beat. I wondered if he’d go back on his word.

“You’re observant, I’ll give you that,” he eventually said with something that bordered on respect in his tone.

“Well?” I prodded.

“I was looking for something. I was led to believe I’d find it near the witch prison. When I didn’t find it, I decided to let some pompous guards think they’d found me, and enthralled them into imprisoning me rather than attempting to decapitate me.”

“But why? What were you looking for?”

“I’ve answered your question. If you wanted more details, you should’ve been more specific.”

I huffed a breath in frustration. He’d let them put him in copper shackles, turning him weak as a mortal while they whipped him for days? His thrall might have stopped the first set of guards from decapitating him, but a new set could have done so. I still wasn’t convinced his thrall worked in Greymere—he’d have been defenseless. For a vampire who planned to live a “very long time,” he’d risked coming to a bloody end in chains. What under the gods’s sun could he have been looking for?

“Is this what your question to the Librarians is about?”

Raphael didn’t answer. I hid my grin and took it as a yes.

I should’ve dropped it. Once I asked the question, my bargain was fulfilled, and we’d go our separate ways.

But the vampire was a puzzle. And I was terrible at resisting puzzles.

Chapter Fourteen

The markets of Apanteweren’t as famous as the Great Library—they weren’t called the Great Markets, after all—but they still far exceeded anything I’d ever seen. Colors exploded from every stall, vendors shouting bargains and enticements in a joyful cacophony. The noise hurt my ears, but there was so much life in it I forced myself forward. For years, the only yelling I’d heard had been from pain. Here, there was every other emotion on display—greed and pride, pleasure as customers inspected beautiful goods, good-natured bartering at every stall.

We had time to spare, since Prince Marcel would likely spend the day with the Librarians. Until he left tomorrow, we’d be unable to get an audience with them. We’d have toput in a request tomorrow, and if I was lucky, we’d be seen the same day.

One more day. Then we’d part ways.

There was a lovely deck holder that caught my eye. The case was surrounded in delicate beading, with bright blue and reds forming a pattern. It slotted along a belt that continued the same pattern, with sturdy leather that could fit all kinds of tinkering tools in addition to the deck. It would do a much better job holding the pile of cards than my makeshift pouch, that much was for certain.

Raphael, of course, caught me looking.

“Should I thrall him into giving it to you?” he offered, humor in his eyes.

I forced us to continue on. “It’s pointless where I’m headed.” For more than one reason.

“So youhavedecided to join the Monastery.”

Was he joking? “I’m an exile,” I hissed, keeping my voice so quiet only his vampire hearing would pick up on it. “It’s not like I have any other option.”

There were three main powers in the Witch Kingdom. The Crown, of course, set in Ulryne. The Great Library of Apante was another, because even outlawing seers didn’t diminish their power. But the Monastery was different. Despite the name, it was really a network of churches that stretched throughout the kingdom. It claimed all of Eurobis as its seat of power, since the gods, too, claimed all of the continent.

The Monastery would take in anyone on the condition they forsook the use of magic—criminal, pauper, princess. All you had to do was devote yourself fully to the gods and forsake any use of magic. Converts put their faith solely in the gods, and, supposedly, were rewarded for it eternally. Since voids already lacked magic, they weren’t giving up as much. But I’d also give up use of enchantments stored in cards.

“Surely you’ll miss the magic.”

I forced myself to still, hating how easily the vampire saw inside me. “Where I was before”—I avoided sayingGreymerelest anyone accidentally eavesdropping pay closer attention—“I had no access to magic. This will hardly be a big adjustment.”

Except I loved the sensation of using magic. I had loved it even in the years I’d been forced to go without. I reveled in feeling it around me as we walked through the markets. The electric spires dancing over my skin when I cast a card felt like armor. Giving up that protection, after everything…

Still, I’d be safe. The Monastery allowed criminals to join because it stripped you of your identity, including any past sins, when you joined. You gave up all markers of individuality. Not just magic, but ostentatious displays of wealth like the beaded toolbelt.

“There are other options,” Raphael insisted.

I snorted and walked faster. Somehow, it was less fun to look at the wares available now that reality had sunk in. Nomatter what I did, I’d never own any of them. “What life could I have? I’ve missed my chance at any apprenticeship. And I’d be living a life looking over my shoulder, waiting for them to throw me in the dungeons. Or worse.”

“You could continue with me. Come to my realm.”