Page 27

I stared at my reflection in the mirror of my apartment.

I left the palace the very next day after meeting Gareth in the dungeons.

To my surprise, Anderic didn’t object to my departure.

Instead, he’d assigned five more guards to my detail without a word of explanation.

I didn’t know what to make of his cold shoulder treatment.

I knew he was angry at me, but I didn’t think it would last this long.

“My lady, hold still.” Laurel’s nimble fingers adjusted the midnight blue fabric at my shoulder. “I need to make sure the seam lies flat.”

The gown was exquisite—the same design Rosalind had worn to the masked winter solstice ball in my previous life.

Annalise had outdone herself, dyeing it midnight blue at my request and altering it to fit my frame perfectly.

The bodice hugged my waist before cascading into a full skirt embroidered with silver thread that caught the light like stars in a night sky.

More importantly, it contained a hidden pocket, perfectly sized for the dagger Anderic had given me. The weight of it against my thigh was oddly comforting.

God knows I might need it today.

I had planned for the prison break today. The plan was in motion. I hoped everything went accordingly.

“You look beautiful, my lady.” Laurel stepped back, admiring her work.

“Beautiful enough to distract prison guards?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Beautiful enough to distract a prince,” she countered with a knowing smile.

That brought me back to the night I’d confessed my plans to her. I’d expected shock, horror, perhaps even resistance. Instead…

“I need to help Gareth escape,” I had whispered into the darkness of my room in the palace.

Laurel hadn’t even looked up from folding my clothes. “When do we do it, and what do you need me to do?”

I’d stared at her, baffled. “You’re not shocked that I want to help a criminal escape? That my father was involved in Magnus’s downfall?”

She’d shrugged, setting down a freshly pressed chemise. “My lady, no lord stays in power that long without doing something underhanded.”

“And you’re not judging me?”

Laurel had hesitated then, her eyes finding mine in the candlelight. “Well, you weren’t quite right in the head before, so it’s understandable.”

Normally I’d have been offended… slightly, but then the laughter had bubbled up from somewhere deep inside me—pure, unfiltered relief washing through my body.

It felt freeing to be able to tell someone finally.

We’d spent the rest of the night planning our prison break over tea and honey cakes she’d smuggled from the palace kitchens.

I examined the bruises marring my skin. I’d healed considerably in the past few days, but evidence of my encounter with Red remained. A dark ring circled my throat where his hands had squeezed, and one eye was still shadowed with purple-green like a fading storm cloud.

“You’ve worked magic, Laurel,” I said, examining her handiwork. The makeup blended the bruises seamlessly into my skin, the darker areas now looking like intentional shadows to complement my gown.

“Magic is just skill and patience.” She fastened my mother’s silver necklace around my throat, covering the last of the bruising.

That reminded me I hadn’t spoken to my mother in months now after she basically disowned me. Would she ignore me at the ball too?

Our carriage rattled over the cobblestones as we left our apartment, heading toward the palace. I watched through the window as the market district faded into the distance, its familiar chaos replaced by the manicured gardens and towering spires of nobility.

“Are you certain about this?” Laurel asked quietly, her eyes searching mine.

I palmed the hidden pocket where Anderic’s dagger rested. “No, but when has certainty ever been a luxury we could afford?”

The palace loomed ahead, golden light spilling from its windows like liquid sunlight. Music drifted through the evening air, a beautiful melody to accompany our dangerous dance.

Our carriage stopped in front of the palace’s gates, the wheels crunching on the pebbled pathway as we circled the breathtaking fountain.

Water arced in crystalline streams from the mouths of white marble lions, catching the light of a hundred lanterns and transforming ordinary water into liquid diamonds.

The palace loomed before us, its white stone walls bathed in golden light.

Massive spires reached toward the indigo sky-like fingers grasping for stars.

Banners in royal blue and gold fluttered from every tower, dancing in the evening breeze.

Tonight, flowers adorned every available surface—roses, lilies, and exotic blooms I couldn’t name twisted around columns and festooned doorways.

Beside me, Laurel gasped softly. “The palace is breathtaking tonight.”

“It is,” I agreed, though my attention was more focused on the guards stationed at every entrance.

I counted twelve visible ones, which meant at least twice that number were hidden from view.

Wonderful. Fewer guards for unimportant places.

Breaking Gareth out wasn’t going to be as challenging as I’d anticipated.

We stood before the massive gate, waiting as nobles in their finery streamed past us. The announcer, a thin man with a pinched face, cleared his throat.

“Your name, my lady?”

“Lady Ilyana D’Arcane,” I supplied, then tapped his arm and added, “and Lady Laurel.”

The man’s eyebrows shot up as he glanced at my maid. “My lady, I don’t—”

I fixed him with my most imperious glare, the one I’d practiced in the mirror for occasions just like this. “And Lady Laurel,” I repeated, my voice sharper than Anderic’s dagger in my hidden pocket.

He swallowed visibly. “Lady Ilyana D’Arcane and Lady Laurel,” he announced, his voice carrying across the entrance hall.

We stepped through the arched entrance onto granite floors polished to a mirror-like shine.

Massive white walls were decorated with banners and portraits of previous royal family members.

A wide door offered access to the ballroom directly ahead, giving us a glimpse of the main floor and the crowd inside —women in colorful dresses and men in formal attire swirling like exotic birds circling crows.

Two suspended staircases with elaborate iron railings swept up on both sides, leading to the upstairs floor and two additional doors. The entire scene was magnificent, but I couldn’t help remembering that somewhere beneath all this splendor was a dungeon holding a man I needed to free.

Damn Gareth and his seven generations.

I could already feel the disdain and murmur of gossip as we entered, but I smiled my brightest smile and made my way through the crowd. People stared, their gazes lingering on the barely concealed bruises on my face and neck. Let them stare. I’d endured worse than their whispers.

Before I could take a few more steps, I suddenly found myself enveloped in my mother’s arms. The familiar scent of lavender and rose water surrounded me, momentarily transporting me back to childhood.

“My darling girl!” Mother’s hands fluttered over my face, gently touching the edge of a bruise. “Are you alright? Are you hurt anywhere else? Why did you even go there? Why take such risks?” Each question came faster than the last, her voice rising with concern.

My father had already joined us, his face grave as he examined my injuries. No sarcastic remarks, no clever criticisms—just quiet concern in his eyes.

My mind whirled. I had specifically told everyone not to inform my parents about what happened. I’d even prepared excuses for the bruises. That meant only one person could have told them.

My eyes found Sebastian across the room as he walked toward us, a wine glass in hand. I narrowed my eyes at him, and he suddenly became fascinated with the contents of his drink.

Mother brought my attention back to her as she cupped my face. “Stop glaring at your brother,” she scolded. “If Sebastian hadn’t told us, we wouldn’t have known anything. Why didn’t you tell us? I’m your mother; I deserve to know.”

“Didn’t you tell me not long ago that you were disowning me as your daughter?” The words escaped before I could stop them. Shit! Me and my sarcastic mouth.

Mother’s eyes suddenly filled with tears, and I panicked.

“I was just joking,” I quickly clarified, my hands fluttering uselessly. “I knew you would worry; that’s why I didn’t say anything.” Which was true. I didn’t want them to worry unnecessarily.

I didn’t know all it would take for my mother’s anger to disappear was to come close to death.

“You look ugly when you cry,” I said, attempting to make her laugh, a desperate tactic from our old days. But the tears didn’t stop. I looked at my father for help, only to find his eyes glistening as well.

“Father…” My voice cracked, and suddenly he enveloped me in a bear hug, his large frame dwarfing mine.

“We were so worried,” he choked out quietly. “So worried, my little doll.”

Little doll. He didn’t call me that often. For him to use that nickname…

I got choked up despite myself. “Now you’re just ruining my makeup,” I managed, blinking rapidly. Laurel had spent an hour concealing these bruises—I couldn’t let them be washed away by something as trivial as tears.

Not when I had a more important mission to accomplish. Looking at my parents now only strengthened my resolve.

Mother wiped her tears and straightened my necklace. “Now that everything is resolved, you should stop staying at that hovel of yours and come back home.”

“How did you—” I whipped my head around to find Sebastian, who raised his glass in a mocking toast before walking away.

“Cheers,” he mouthed, taking a smug sip of his wine.

That traitor. How many of my secrets had he spilled while I was recovering?