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“Wait here,” he orders, disappearing through a doorway.

His cat saunters into the room in his absence, almost as if it’s keeping an eye on me.

A few minutes later, the aged apothecary returns. He carries a small birdcage, but there are no birds inside. Instead, it houses a pair of hairless rodents, both gray and bloated, with pink tails and eyes that glow red with their own unsettling light.

“Blood rats?” I ask.

The apothecary grunts as he tosses a square of black fabric over the cage. “Both female, just as the princess requested. Best keep them covered while you walk through the city, and don’t loiter while you’re on your way. It’s illegal to possess them in Caldenbauer.”

He hands me a satchel with what I assume are the rest of the ingredients.

“It’s none of my business,” the man says, “but if I’m correct in my assumption, you best tell Camellia to be cautious.”

I stare at him, hoping my knowing silence will trick him into giving more away.

“Not many people have attempted the Kivear concoction,” he adds as if to defend his warning, shifting from one foot to the other. “Dangerous business. Few have the stomach for it.”

If the necromancer is telling me Camellia is dabbling in things more dangerous than the norm, it must be bad.

“How long will it take to prepare?” I ask, wondering how much time I have to figure out what it does.

“The concoction takes about a week.” He narrows his eyes. “If Camellia begins tomorrow, it’ll be ready the day of the wedding.”

A chill passes over me, but I give the man a curt nod as if unaffected. “Good. You can expect your payment tomorrow.”

“I want my service remembered when Camellia takes the throne,” he says, eyeing me as I take the covered cage and satchel.

“What’s your name again?” I ask as I step out the door.

“Vignim,” he says eagerly.

Nodding, I commit his name to memory, prepared to tell Lawrence. His service will bewellremembered.

I walk briskly through the dark streets of Cabaranth, thankful when I make it back to the castle.

Camellia sits on her chaise longue when I return, and her eyes light when I step in the door with her illicit goods.

“Out,” she commands her ladies, sending them to the small room that was intended for a solitary maid. The girls happily scramble away, closing the door after them.

“Set them down,” she says eagerly, gesturing toward the tea table.

I cross my arms as she pulls the cloth from the cage. Even in the bright lamplight of the princess’s sitting room, the rats’ eyes glow red. Opening the cage, Camellia pulls one of the rodents out, inspecting it with a frown.

It squeaks its displeasure, but she doesn’t seem affected by its distress. “Plump, aren’t they? They’ll do nicely.”

“If I were to ask what you have in mind for them, would you tell me?”

“That depends.” The princess puts the rat back in the cage and then peeks into the satchel. “Are you still angry with me?”

“The apothecary said the concoction you’re collecting ingredients for is dangerous.”

“He figured out what I’m making, did he?” She laughs softly, obviously amused at the thought. “It’s not the first time I’ve made it. I’ve taken a steady supply of the concoction since before I left for Revalane.”

“What is it?” I demand, taking a step closer.

Camellia looks back at me, a self-satisfied smile twisting her lips. “Insurance.”

“Do you have to kill someone to make it?”