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I flipped through the delicate pages.A supplication to the god of abundance—April 18th. A conversation with the god of forests. An answer from the god of the stars.The book fell open to a threadbare bookmark, next to a page titledA strange interaction with a new god.

“Have you... have you tried to replicate these rituals?” I asked softly.

“I was unsuccessful.” She slipped her glasses back onto herface. “It seems whatever aptitude my mother possesses has skipped over me.” Eglantine clutched the book. “Perhaps you will have more luck.”

All my life I have offered to the gods and never received an answer. Yet here was a chance I had never expected, answers I desperately needed. I could not help but try, even to appeal to the monstrous god that haunted us all.

“I fear I’ll have no more success than you’ve had,” I warned her.

Eglantine pressed her lips in a sad smile. “Mademoiselle,” she said, “I have looked in vain for my mother for thirty years. I don’t know if this god has any answers. I don’t know if this god will speak toanyone.But my mother... if she’s alive somewhere, she’d be over eighty years old. I am running out of time. I am running out of hope.” She extended a hand, laying it against my wrist. “I have given you the greatest treasure I have: knowledge. You are a knight. In this godsforsaken place, I have only seenyoupursue justice andtruth. I am begging you to help me find her. Or at leasttry.”

“I shall,” I said.

Despite her plea, she had seemed to expect my denial. At my words, she clapped a hand to her mouth, muffling a sob that seemed torn from her. Far away, bells clanged, making us both jump. The signal that the night’s festivities were to begin. A siren’s call to the ballroom.

Eglantine rose from the table, sniffling and gathering upher books. “You should go,” she said. “I don’t want anyone to think we’ve been conspiring. The king hates private meetings.”

I tucked the journal under my arm and carefully placed the penknife back on the table with a little click. When Eglantine caught sight of the blade, she laughed and said, “Wait! I do have something to repay you with.”

She disappeared toward her desk, returning after a moment with something in her hands. When she set it on the tabletop, my eyes went round. A dagger, still in its sheath. I hungrily grabbed the weapon, unsheathing it. On either side of the handle, the guard was curved almost like a bow—a perfect parrying blade. After a world filled with riches and excess, I relished something so simple. The sharp blade glowed in the candlelight. With utter reverence, I hid the dagger within my coat.

“Better than a penknife,” she said with a grin.

“Where did you get it?” I asked.

“The palace confiscates the nobles’ weapons. I happen to have a key to such contraband.” Eglantine nodded at the dagger. “Be careful. If our suspicions are correct... this is dangerous knowledge that we possess.”

“What about you?”

The librarian grinned, lifting a heavy volume off the table with great ease. “I have lived in Le Château nearly my whole life, mademoiselle. I can handle myself.”

“Very well.” I bowed to her. “Thank you, Eglantine. For everything.” I glanced at the library doors, back to where the “real world” lay. “I need to share all of this with Ofelia—”

“She’s the king’s daughter.”

“She’s my—” I faltered, because I did not know what to call her.Belovedwas what I longed for.

“I know you trust her. I know you care for her. But any secret she slips would easily reach the ears of the king.”

Ofelia was kind and delightful and gregarious. She was sweet and strong and impossible to talk out of a plan she had decided upon. For all these marvelous attributes, even I could admit, discretion was never her strongest suit. Still, keeping anything from her felt wrong.

“I just want her to be safe,” I said.

She rested the heavy volume against her hip and turned to look at me, something piercing and sad in her eyes. “Then choose wisely what knowledge to share with her.”

As I feared, Ofelia was not in her bedroom. I tucked Sagesse’s book of gods under the mattress and knew I’d find her in the ballroom.

Through the darkened hallways, I followed the drifting sound of whining music and loud, raucous laughter. Already the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as I prepared myself for the inevitable. Being around so many people. The way they unabashedly pointed and stared at me.

The doors to the ballroom were parted, allowing golden light to spill into the corridor. A single guard stood in the doorway, his halberd firmly planted on the floor.

“Name?” he asked me.

“Lope de la Rosa,” I said. “I serve Lady Ofelia.”

“If that is so, servant, why are you not with your lady?”

They never used to question me like this. I was always following just behind her. We were always side by side—now this guard completely doubted my place in her life.