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Laughter is my response. “You’re ridiculous. You had me there for a second with this ‘unknown truth’ about the Fool.”

Kaelis takes a step forward, compressing the gap between us. My amusement is smothered by the cold voids of his all-consuming eyes. “It isn’t a joke, and you know it.”

“No. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You do, you’ve just refused to believe it. Closed yourself to it.” A frown tugs on his lips. “You…are incredible, Clara.”

It’s as if he’s disgusted with himself for even giving me that compliment.

If it weren’t for the deepening of his frown, I would’ve thought he meant it as some kind of jape.

But hating himself for praising me? The jealousy that simmers in his gaze?

That I expect. Which means… The compliment was genuine?

“ But… ” I can feel that “but” hanging in the air. He’s not about to be that kind to me.

“No.” His arm twitches. For a second, I think he is about to reach for me.

The notion reminds me once more of the feeling of clinging to him.

I forcefully remove it from my thoughts.

“No ‘but.’ You are incredible.” It’s clear he’s still forcing himself to admit as much.

But he does seem to mean it, and I’m left in shock.

He steps around me. “Your inking skills are only rivaled by your frustrating tenacity. So it is all the more astounding whenever you doubt yourself, or hold yourself back.”

“I do not doubt myself, nor do I hold myself back.” I whirl to face him.

“Prove it, then, and follow me.” Kaelis leaves with a flap of his coattails before I can get another word in.

I entertain the idea of ignoring him entirely.

The afternoon is mine for study…once I’ve put in my extra hour of awful inking with Professor Duskflame.

I’ve the library of Arcana Academy and all the inking tools I could dream of at my disposal, with ample time to plan an escape from Ravin’s soiree once I’m in Eclipse City.

I could be hunting for Arina’s escape route.

Or continuing to fill my belly and strengthen my body.

Any of that is what I should be doing. But…instead…

I race to catch up with the prince, and as I round the doorframe, I nearly run face-first into his chest.

Kaelis laughs deep and low as he leans forward, our noses nearly touching. “Took you long enough.” With that, he’s off again, and I’m left to assume he wants me to follow.

“If you intended to show me these other ‘Majors’ all along, then why have you not mentioned it already?” I keep my voice low as we walk side by side.

“We’ve been a bit busy.” He has the look of a man who knows he’s made a good point.

“You could’ve mentioned it earlier, before I walked off.” Even I know I’m being a bit ridiculous. I haven’t even been in the academy for two days. But I hate giving Kaelis, of all people, any slack.

“Forgive me for thinking it more important for you to get a proper meal for lunch and planning to find you later.” It’s oddly considerate of him.

“And then you changed your mind?” Now I’m trying to figure out how he knew to come find me.

“You weren’t at lunch, and, given your condition, I couldn’t imagine anything that would keep you from a hot meal would be good.” The words harden slightly at the end. All I can imagine is him promptly leaving the main hall and coming in search of me.

Why do I matter so much to you? The question bubbles up, unbidden, unexpected. I keep it unasked, assuming that he’ll give me the same vague explanation about obtaining the World for him.

Down a series of stone stairs so worn that they sag in the middle is an empty room that serves as nothing more than an antechamber for the structure that lies beyond.

The entire back wall is glass, glowing with the light of the late afternoon sun.

Kaelis wastes no time opening the iron-framed doors.

I’ve caught glimpses of this place from the outside, the fogged glass of the conservatory flush against the ornate arcades of the circling halls, but the moment I’m standing within its embrace…all movement stills. For a second, the entire world seems to stop to savor the sunlight with me.

“What is it?” Kaelis has stopped about fifteen paces ahead. A looksomewhere between confusion and frustration occupies his features.

“It’s been a long time since I saw sunlight. Unfiltered. Sunlight.” My words are soft and wistful. The day I escaped Halazar it had been overcast.

“Eza put you in Halazar, didn’t he?”

My attention drifts back to him. “Is that a touch of anger I hear in your voice, Kaelis?” His glower deepens at my tone—it’s light, almost amused.

As if to say, Do you, of all people, have any right to be angry?

“Are you feeling protective of me?” I cock my head to the side.

Though I phrase it as a question, my body language suggests it’s a challenge.

“Don’t forget, you could’ve liberated me at any time from Halazar. ”

“And do what with you?” His hand balls into a fist, the supple leather of his glove squeaking softly as it tightens. “You saw the guards. A prisoner escaping from Halazar is already raising questions.”

“If you took me out by decree of the crown, I wouldn’t have ‘escaped.’?”

Kaelis tsks. “I do that, and then I have my brother and father wondering why I commuted a random prisoner’s sentence.”

“You clearly have power over Glavstone, don’t you? Couldn’t you command him not to tell them?”

“I am not the only one he answers to, or even the one he fears most.” Though Kaelis’s tone tells me he’s tried to be.

“No, it’s not only that…” I say softly; a new image is forming in my mind.

I suspect what he’s said is true, but it’s also more than that.

Kaelis would’ve known that if he’d just taken me on the night I was captured, I would’ve never agreed to help him with whatever his plot is.

“You wanted me to escape not just to test me and my powers…but also because it’s going to tie everything up neatly for you. ”

The flash of comprehension in his eyes tells me I’m right.

“You’re going to let the leads run cold, wait for the search to come up empty-handed, and then ‘kill’ off the Clara Graysword that was imprisoned,” I continue, taking a step toward him.

“And, by allowing me to escape, you’ve put me in a spot where you know I’ve no other choice but to help you.

Because at any minute you could expose the truth and put me back there. ”

“And?” he asks after a long, long stretch of silence.

I open my mouth and close it.

Kaelis laughs, as low and ominous as thunder rolling over the mountaintops. My blood runs cold at the sound. “Don’t act like you’re not getting anything out of this. You’re engaged to a prince, after all.”

“I’d rather die.” I ball my hands into fists.

“That could be arranged.” He shrugs. “Or something worse.”

“Is that a threat?”

Kaelis tilts his head to the side, narrowing his eyes slightly.

“A reminder. Play nicely, and you’ll get your freedom at the end of this.

As long as you’re in the academy, I can protect you.

” Yet another reason hedidn’t take me out of Halazar sooner.

I couldn’t be admitted into Arcana Academy until the Fire Festival.

Is he really protecting me? No sooner does the thought cross my mind than he reminds me who I’m dealing with.

“Cross me, or give anyone a reason to think you’re not my long-lost-noble bride, and you’re sent back there. ”

I don’t believe for a second that he’ll give me my freedom. Whatever he’s going to use me for, he’ll want no one else to know of it, I’m sure. Which means, as soon as I complete his tasks, I’m dead.

“Now, do you have any other clever revelations about my machinations?” Kaelis keeps adjusting his coat. It must be sweltering for him in here, and I briefly consider letting him sweat a little longer, but I resist.

“No.”

“Good.” He takes a few steps and, with that, abandons the conversation.

I have a harder time letting go, even as we weave through plants both familiar and foreign. Lush vines with tiny, iridescent bellflowers drape over me. Trees with luminescent fruit glow in shady nooks. But none of it distracts me.

Kaelis plotted and schemed for at least two years to put me in a position where he is my sole protector, making me both indebted to him and at risk should I cross him.

He’s taking his own chances by maneuvering around his father, the king—I doubt King Oricalis would be keen to find out the truth of who his son declared himself engaged to.

What could he possibly need me for that badly?

A vine-trellised iron fence and locked gate finally jolt me from my thoughts. My curiosity is piqued when Kaelis shows me how to undo the locking mechanism built into it. It’s a piece of work as marvelous as the mechanical mill from last night—though much smaller.

Inside, we come to a stop before a large mausoleum of weathered stone.

Its walls are etched with a series of intricate carvings of mountains split by rivers, vast deserts, and low plains.

An etching of a man mid-step on his journey adorns the timeworn doors.

On the roof are a series of scrolled carvings, each winding toward a single, solitary number, framed by roses carved of marble: zero.

The Fool.

Kaelis guides us inside. A chill slithers down my spine—the cool air within is such a contrast to the warmth of the greenhouse.

In the center of a surprisingly unadorned room stands a sarcophagus with the visage of a woman—not a man, as I might have expected given the Fool symbology—carved onto it.

Stone cards have been scattered across her peaceful form, and her eyes are closed in an eternal sleep.

Across her brow is a solid band with five unadorned points—a crown I recognize, though I’ve only ever seen it in portraits of King Naethor Oricalis.

“What is this place?” I whisper.