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Anthea looked up from her notes.

The quarters they had been assigned had vaulted ceilings adorned with gold leaf detailing, crystal chandeliers hung from it, casting a warm glow throughout the room. The walls were draped with delicate silk tapestries depicting enchanting landscapes. Heavy velvet curtains in a shade of rose framed tall windows, which offered a breathtaking view of the sea beyond.

Anthea had stowed her belongings in the room meant for the serving staff, a smaller space but cozy, with a single window that overlooked the castle’s expansive gardens. After that, she had claimed a spot in the main room, on the plush pink canapé, its golden legs curving elegantly to meet the mosaic tiles below. She had sat there for about two hours, had watched as the Crimson court’s servants carried luggage in, had gone over Endreth’s notes of the castle’s layout.

Kaelan and Haldrian had stayed behind the quarters’ ornate doors—guarding it.

“I’ve been going through the notes,” Anthea told the Crimson princes. “The vaults are in the northern wing, right?”

Endreth walked over to her, his eyes scanning the papers spread out before her. “Here, this is the passage that leads directly to the vaults. I have marked the guards’ patrol routes. You need to avoid them at all costs.” His fingers brushed against hers as he pointed at a spot on the map.

She looked up at him at the contact, trying her best to conceal the questions in her eyes—not really knowing where they stood with each other after the previous night.

“The castle is bigger than I expected.”

“It is a fortress as much as it is a palace. Icarion has made sure of that.” Aegonar was leaning against a tall column, arms crossed over his chest.

“Tomorrow, we will be attending several events. You will accompany me. It will give you a chance to familiarize yourself with the layout. The notes will start to make more sense then,” Endreth said as he moved to the sideboard, pouring himself a glass of the amber liquid contained in one of the ornate decanters.

“The day after, in the late evening, you will enter the vault. I’d caution against any rash decisions before that.” Aegonar’s gaze shifted from her to his brother.

“Do I look like someone who makes rash decisions?” Anthea lifted her chin.

“You have your moments.” The heir’s eyes were serious. “The events at Cattleya court tend to be quite . . . intense. Especially for humans. Their gatherings often involve showcasing their collection of slaves,” he said, the distaste clear in his voice. “It can get cruel—violent even. Do not let it distract you. Your primary focus should be the castle, the vault, and nothing else.”

“I will be with you every step of the way. You won’t be alone,” the younger prince murmured, taking a sip from his glass.

“I can do this,” Anthea assured them.

Endreth’s voice was gentle, almost a caress. “I know you can.”

At Endreth’s words, Anthea noticed Aegonar’s eyes move once again to his brother. There was a look in his eyes she didn’t quite understand. Was it concern? Disappointment?

Endreth placed his empty glass on the ornate wooden table beside the canapé and moved to sit next to Anthea. She was enveloped by his familiar scent; it was as if the sea had clung to him.

“Would you like to go over these notes together?” he offered.

Anthea turned her gaze from him to Aegonar. The heir’s stern expression, seemingly chiseled from stone, served as a warning.

“I . . . I think I need to rest a bit. I didn’t sleep much last . . .” A warm blush stained her cheeks. Memories of the previous night, the reasons for her lack of rest, came flooding back.

Endreth, his own cheeks tinting a shade darker, murmured, “Of course. Rest is important. We have a long day tomorrow.”

Anthea rose from her seat, gathered the notes—ready to escape to her small room.

She was awoken by a soft knock on the door. It was a female from the Crimson court, a kind-faced elf, called Adaria.

“Prince Aegonar sent me to assist you in preparing for today’s events.”

Anthea sat up, blinking. “Assist me?”

Adaria smiled gently. “The affairs of the Cattleya court are, shall we say, more elaborate than you might be used to.”

The elf was efficient, filling the bath with fragrant oils and herbs that released a cloud of steamy aroma into the air. Anthea slipped into the water, and although initially hesitant about company while bathing, she found Adaria’s touch to be gentle and respectful. The warmth of the bath and the soothing sensation of Adaria’s hands was oddly comforting.

As the elf worked, Anthea’s curiosity got the better of her. “I don’t recall seeing you at the servant quarters at the Crimson castle. Have you been with the court long?”

Adaria paused for a moment, choosing her words. “I served as the Queen’s lady’s maid before her . . . departure,” she said softly. “My position allows for certain privileges, including having my own quarters.”