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Four weeks later, Adelina clutched the horse’s reins in a white-knuckle grip as she approached the eastern entrance to the city of Kirovo.

By then, her wound had healed, leaving a faint scar in its place.

Sooner or later, it would likely fade. Running her teeth along her lower lip, she searched her brain for a logistical way in which she’d find her husband and sister and get them both to safety.

She couldn’t dwell on the idea he may be dead, and the gods only knew what condition Tihana could be in.

The thought of anyone arming a single hair on her sister’s dainty head shot waves of heat through her body.

A sharp pain rippled through her lip as her teeth punctured the soft skin.

A drop of blood slid against her tongue, coating it in its iron taste.

Loosening her grip on the reins, she fought to swallow her anger.

She needed to remain focused and devise a plan before reaching the palace.

If she could reach the servants’ entrance, she could find Natasha, have her convince the other staff she was a newly employed maid.

But even dressed in the proper uniform, her face would be recognisable by guards passing by, and certainly Filip if he were near.

Flinging herself off the horse, she guided it towards the market.

Rummaging in her pocket, she drew her pouch and poured the remaining coins into her palm.

She used them to purchase a pair of scissors and round wire-rim glasses.

Tucking the items into her pocket, she headed to the closest tavern, her chin tilted to the ground, and the hood of her cloak up.

The hem of the fabric hung below her brow.

Once she’d hobbled her horse, she entered the tavern, weaving her way between patrons.

A musician played a violin, providing the evening’s entertainment, and keeping unwanted gazes from her.

Using it to her advantage, she hurried along the back wall, towards the restroom at the other end.

Through the wooden door, she slipped into the stone-built structure and thanked the gods no one else was inside.

The restroom was bare aside from a basin and chipped mirror hanging haphazardly on the wall. A small window allowed for ventilation and the dispelling of any foul smell, which she was also grateful for.

Turning on her heel, she locked the door, then braced her hands against the basin, staring at her reflection in the worn mirror.

Take a deep breath. You can do this .

Pursing her lips, she slowly drew the pair of scissors from her pocket.

With a wad of brown curls between her fingers, and the scissors in her other hand, she snipped off the locks.

Eight inches of hair fell into the basin.

Her heart hammered and her hands trembled with urgency as she quickly made her way around the back of her head and to the other side of her face.

When she was done, she stared at the bundle of locks discarded in the basin. As if she’d removed a part of her femininity, her heart panged. But there were more important things to be concerned about.

She grabbed the curls, then tossed them into the toilet, holding her breath. The wooden seat didn’t look at all comfortable, and she was glad she didn’t need to use it.

Before leaving the restroom, she placed the wire-rimmed glasses on her face and unlocked the door.

The musician sang melodically while picking up the tempo, driving fierce and dramatic notes through the atmosphere. Sliding through the narrow passage between patrons at the back of the room, she headed for the door.

When she was outside, she kept a tight grip on the pommel of the sword at her waist and didn’t slow her pace. Grabbing the horse, she mounted, then turned towards Kirovo Palace.

∞∞∞

Instead of riding in through the grand entrance, Adelina rode along a narrow, cobbled path leading to the eastern servants’ entrance.

From her position near the treeline behind the market and houses, she spotted the gardeners tending to the flowers and shrubs.

Yelena strolled down the path between the manicured lawns towards the training building.

Adelina fastened her horse to a tree branch inside the forest, then discarded her robe and slung it over the saddle. What was she to do with her sword? If she was going to disguise herself, she couldn’t exactly stroll through the gate with a weapon.

Turning on her heel, she made for the fallen tree stump. She dropped to her knees and clawed back the dried leaves and mud. Hastily, she stashed the sword, still in its sheath, into the crevice between the log and the ground. Once she’d shunted the leaves and mud on top, she rose.

Tucking her hacked curls behind her ears, she straightened her shoulders and headed to the iron gate ahead.

The entrance was wide enough for one person to slip through the gate, and a handful of steps later, she was in the stone-floored hallway. Daylight streamed through the small, square window, filtering into the kitchens through the archway.

Servants flittered back and forth. A hanging rack with pots and pans dangled from the ceiling near the brick stove in the centre of the room.

Heat radiated from it as food cooked inside.

One cook chopped a bunch of vibrant green herbs against a wooden block, while another ground a fragrant mixture with a mortar and pestle.

Garlic wafted off a sauce bubbling in the open stove, and the pleasant blend of basil and rosemary stirred a hunger inside of Adelina. Her stomach growled .

Shoving her thoughts of food aside, she strolled through the kitchen as if she walked this place daily.

“Where did you come from?” the cook who chopped vegetables said—her cheeks tinted red from the sweltering heat.

“Are you the new chamber maid who was hired? And where are your clothes?” She wrinkled her nose at the breeches and dirtied, cotton shirt Adelina had been wearing for quite some time. “Natasha! The new maid is here.”

Natasha came bundling through the kitchen, skidding to a halt in front of Adelina and her eyes widened. “I was about to head to the chambers when I heard your call. Ah, yes…she is the new chamber maid, indeed.”

“Yes, yes, she is quite filthy. I’m sure she will be of use to you once you have her cleaned and dressed.”

Unable to peel her gaze from Adelina, she simply nodded, then grabbed her by the elbow. As she steered her away, Natasha lowered her voice to a whisper. “What are you doing here?”

“I had to come back.” Adelina’s heart thrummed and her stomach somersaulted.

“I’m so glad to see you. I need your help.

Filip threatened to kill my husband—I don’t know if he lives—and I think he’s captured my sister.

We don’t have much time to get them both out of here without raising the suspicion of the guards, and the gods only know how long it’ll be before Filip spots me. ”

“Fear not—he’s been locked in his office all day. Something about arranging living quarters for his father.” Natasha tugged her through a doorway and up a spiralling staircase, presumably to the servants’ living quarters .

“His father? You mean Antanov Tarasov?” Adelina asked.

“Yes. Filip wants him housed nearby as his health deteriorates,” Natasha said.

“Why isn’t he living here in the palace?”

“I suppose Filip doesn’t want his father sniffing around in his work. As much as Filip does what he can to please his power-hungry father, Filip likes his own control.” Natasha flung open a bedroom door, then ushered her inside.

Adelina knew the truth of it—while Antanov’s lust for power might’ve spurred on Filip to crave the same thing, she knew they were both spawn from Nav, allowed to be reborn in the real world by Veles.

She hoped the Sword of Light remained hidden and away from their clutches.

If it was to fall into their hands, she couldn’t be sure she’d keep a firm hold of the sword’s loyalties, and there would be no stopping Filip or his father.

“Can you get me into the prison?” Adelina caught the maid uniform Natasha threw at her. Quickly, she stripped out of her dirty clothes, then redressed, flattening the crumbled skirt.

“The cells are directly below the ground floor and the entrance is through a passageway off the kitchens. I’ve been down once or twice to provide food to the guards, and it’s a maze down there.” Natasha tossed her a pair of black canvas shoes.

“I can bring the guards food, but then what? How will I get past them?” Adelina flipped her hair and hastily combed her fingers through it in an attempt to align her disguise as a servant, or more truthfully, to ignore the tightening sensation in her throat .

“Here, put these lifts in the shoes—it’ll make you appear taller and more unlike your true self.

” Natasha grabbed a pair of wooden blocks from inside a bedside drawer, then handed them to her.

“The prisoners haven’t been fed yet today, so you can bring something to them too.

From what the cook says, the prisoners were on a strict regime of burned bread only.

Seems they were being starved. On the odd occasion, the guards allowed leftover stew passed them, so it didn’t go to waste. They won’t question it.”

Nodding, Adelina slipped on the shoes. “How do I look?”

Natasha smiled warmly, dispelling the tension in the air. “Like you fit in.”