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Even though we’ve timed it to be certain no workers would be present in this part of the building, I still peer out warily before wriggling into the room. Once I’m sure I’m alone, I place the panel back into the wall and make a swift beeline for the door at the back of the dim room.

Then, I take the staircase down.

The irony of finding secret passageways and basements isn’t lost on me as I descend. I suppose you can take the Princess out of the palace, but you can’t take the palace out of the Princess.

My target is barely a dozen meters from the bottom of the steps, a large metal door bearing a sign that warns, “Staff only. Keep out.”

The boiler room.

Checking once more behind me, I yank it open, disappearing inside. It’s loud in here, the boiler machinery thrumming like a heartbeat, but worse than that, it’s sweltering. The moment I enter, a brunette head of hair whips around, wide eyes meeting mine.

“You made it!” Story’s face spreads into a smile, but I can see the nervousness in her jitters. “And right on time, too. No problems?”

I drop my bag, unzipping my jacket. “All went as planned. If Pace has the restroom bugged, all he can hear is my crying and puking.” I scowl as I gather my hair up, the heat already making sweat bead on my skin. “I bet he jacks off to it.”

Before Story can react, the door opens again, making us both skitter to the edge of the room. It’s just Lavinia though, nose wrinkling as she meets us. “Fuck, it’s like a sauna in here.”

“Which is bad for any tech equipment,” I explain, gesturing to the boiler. “And too loud to bother with any mics.” The idea is solid. Pace and the other Princes—even Ashby himself—have no reason to surveil the boiler room in the college’s basement. It’s the safest place to meet the Monarchs. I know that. I’m the one who came up with it.

Still, my blood rushes with anxiety, adrenaline making my teeth chatter even through the heat radiating in the room.

If we get caught again…

Lavinia immediately begins taking off her sweater. “God, I feel like Freddy Kreuger is about to bust up in here. So we need a new plan, right? Since the Princes are apparently fine with spying in other territories.Ugh.”

Story fans herself, grimacing. “Yeah, I guess we underestimated their loyalty to the Royal boundaries.”

“Nowhere is safe,” I agree, glancing nervously at the door.

“I never got to say, but,” Lavinia begins, deflating. “What happened to you that night… I never should have pushed you for information—”

“No.” I shut that down instantly. This is the first time Lavinia and I have had arealchance to speak. We’re not allowed to be alone together anymore. The Dukes seem content to push some boundaries of their agreement with Ashby, but never that one. “I’m the one who took the risk of going to the gym. I should’ve known better.”

“You should have taken the escape route Stella offered you,” Lavinia rambles. “We had it all organized. Ballsy’s cousin was going to drive you up to Northridge where Marcus’ sister was waiting to—”

“Get West End and South Side mixed up in a Royal war. No, thanks,” I say. “Plus, you think Ashby would let hisbloodheir go that easily? He’d track me to the ends of the earth.”

“I know,” Lavinia admits. “There’s a reason I didn’t run when the Dukes first took me as Duchess. My father would have tracked me down. Kings don’t let go of their daughters easily—even if they don’t see our value.”

Story mutters, “Well, we didn’t know Verity was his daughter back then.”

“There’s no point in talking about this. I accepted that there is no way out of this the day I took the pregnancy test.” I take a deep breath of the warm, humid air. “All I can do now is use it to our advantage.”

“Our advantage?” Lavinia asks, wiping a drop of sweat off her cheek.

“I’ve been thinking about it between bouts of vomiting and rage,” I explain. “I still have access in East End—more so now than ever before.”

“Ver…” Story sighs, twisting the cuff on her wrist. “It’s too dangerous now. If we want to take down the Princes—”

“They’re not really the ones we want to take down,” I snap. “Look, you guys, these three? They’re not like the Lords or the Dukes. They didn’t climb their way to the top because they wanted the position. They were made Princes against their will because they’re weapons.” They both listen intently, which makes me feel less foolish. “Powerful weapons, yes, but in the end, it’shim. Don’t you see?”

“You mean King Ashby?” Lavinia asks.

“If East End has a sickness,” I nod, “then you can consider him patient zero.”

“So how do we take down a King,” Story asks, looking from Lavinia to me, “who’s also your father?”

Lavinia raises her hand. “Some of us have a little experience in this area. Want me to see if any explosives are buried under the palace?”