Page 30

The murmurs of the scandalized crowd crashed over me like a tidal wave, dragging me back to reality.

What had I done? I’d just kissed the prince—the heir to the Aetherian throne—in front of the entire court, including my parents, my brother, and, oh god, the Queen herself.

Every noble in the kingdom had just witnessed me stake my claim on Anderic like some territorial animal marking its territory.

I stepped back, my fingers unlacing from his hair—when had I even buried them there?—and suddenly the weight of hundreds of eyes burned into my skin. The heat that had pooled in my belly transformed into panic that clawed up my throat.

“I, uh—” For once in my life, words failed me. The great Lady Ilyana D’Arcane, rendered speechless by her own impulsivity.

One heartbeat. Two. Three.

Then I bolted.

I didn’t run—I wasn’t some common tavern wench fleeing after stealing silverware—but my retreat was hasty enough that nobody could mistake it for a casual stroll.

I could feel the phantom heat of Anderic’s gaze burning between my shoulder blades as I walked away, my lips still tingling where he’d bitten them during the kiss—a sharp, unexpected graze like a warning and a promise wrapped into one.

The taste of him lingered—champagne and something uniquely him, like winter storms and barely restrained power.

Princess. He had called me Princess. That was the third time he had called me that.

The grand staircase loomed before me like a mountain to be climbed. Each step felt like an eternity, the rustling of my midnight blue gown seeming to whisper scandal, scandal, scandal with every movement. The eyes tracking my ascent bored into my back like arrows.

I can never show my face to my family again. My parents had just forgiven me and welcomed me back into their arms, and I’d repaid them by creating yet another spectacle. Sebastian would never let me live this down. And yet…

I regretted nothing. The feel of Anderic’s lips against mine, the way his hands had tightened on my waist, the growl that had rumbled through his chest—I’d do it all again in a heartbeat.

Priorities, Ilyana. Prison break first, agonize over your love life later.

The upper level was mercifully deserted, the muffled sounds of the ball fading as I slipped into the shadows. I made my way to the darkened alcove where Laurel and I had arranged to meet, my hand instinctively finding the hidden pocket where Anderic’s dagger still rested.

“My lady?” Laurel’s voice was hushed, a lone candle in her hand casting a wavering glow over her concerned expression. “Are you alright? You look… flushed.”

Thank the gods for the blessed darkness. If there had been proper light, Laurel would have seen not just my flaming cheeks but also my disheveled hair and the smeared rouge on my lips—clear evidence of what I’d been doing moments before.

“I’m fine,” I assured her, keeping my voice steady through sheer force of will. “Just a little warm from the dancing. Is everything ready?”

Laurel’s face split into a wide grin as she dangled a set of keys from her slender fingers. “Everything went perfectly.”

We began moving toward the prison section of the palace, our footsteps silent on the stone floors. Laurel leaned close, her voice barely audible.

“We were right to think there would be fewer guards. The path we’re taking was barely watched, and it only took a few drugged muffins to knock them out.

” She sounded proud of herself, which was both endearing and slightly terrifying.

“I made sure to hide the guards where nobody passing by would notice them.”

As I listened to Laurel excitedly recount her adventure, a realization struck me: my quiet, meek little maid was turning out to be quite dangerous. Who would have thought the girl who once trembled when I raised my voice could now drug palace guards without batting an eye?

“But there’s something strange,” Laurel continued, her brow furrowing. “There were also fewer guards in the prison itself than we expected. The muffins worked on them too. We won’t need to create a distraction after all.”

I paused mid-step, unease prickling along my spine. “That doesn’t sound right. The palace is crawling with guards for the ball. Why would they leave the prison so lightly guarded?”

Laurel chewed her bottom lip, suddenly nervous. “Maybe they needed more men for the festivities? Or perhaps they’ve already gotten whatever information they wanted from Gareth?”

“Yes, that could be it…” I agreed half-heartedly, but something nagged at me. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, that instinct for danger I’d developed in the Fringes screaming at me.

This is too easy. Nothing in my life is ever this easy.

But we’d come too far to turn back now. Gareth was my only link to preventing my family’s downfall, and I needed him free before Anderic could extract a full confession. I needed more time.

“Let’s keep moving,” I whispered, drawing Anderic’s dagger from its hidden pocket. “But stay alert. Something about this doesn’t feel right.”

We slipped through the shadows of the palace corridors, our footsteps barely whispers against the polished marble floors. The sconces cast long, wavering shadows that seemed to reach for us with ghostly fingers. Perfect for sneaking, terrible for my already frayed nerves.

“Once we’re done with this, you’ll need to lay low for a while,” I whispered to Laurel as we ducked behind a pillar, waiting for a pair of guards to pass. “These men might recognize you if you come back to the palace. We can’t risk anyone connecting you to the drugged guards.”

Laurel turned to me with such a blank expression that for a moment I wondered if she’d understood what I’d said. Then she let out a soft snort.

“My lady, do you really think I would show my actual face while drugging royal guards?” The incredulity in her voice made me feel like I’d suggested the moon was made of cheese. “I’m not completely witless.”

I blinked, confusion clouding my thoughts. “But—”

“All they saw was a maid with fiery red hair and more freckles than stars in the sky.” Laurel tugged at her brown locks with a smug smile. “Amazing what a wig from Annalise can do. Plus, I spoke with a northern accent thick enough to cut with a knife.”

The patrolling guards’ footsteps faded, and we continued our journey toward the dungeons. The air grew cooler and damper as we descended the stone steps. The rich scents of perfume and food from the ball gave way to the musty smell of earth and old stone.

“When did you become such a mastermind of deception?” I whispered, genuinely impressed.

“I’ve been watching you for years, my lady.” Laurel’s eyes gleamed in the dim light. “One learns a thing or two about manipulation when serving the daughter of Lord D’Arcane.”

I wasn’t sure whether to be flattered or horrified. Had I created this monster? This clever, resourceful woman who could drug guards and disguise herself without batting an eye?

We reached the bottom of the staircase, and I could hear the faint sound of snoring. The drugged guards, no doubt. Laurel’s handiwork.

“The keys should work on Gareth’s cell,” Laurel whispered, pressing them into my palm. “Second door on the left. I’ll guard the door.”

“And if they don’t?” My fingers closed around the cold metal.

Laurel reached into her pocket and pulled out a thin set of metal tools I’d never seen before. “Did I mention my father was a locksmith before he became a gardener?”

Who in the seven hells was this woman, and what had she done with my meek little handmaiden?

I approached Gareth’s cell, the keys cold in my palm. The iron bars cast striped shadows across his face, giving him the look of a caged tiger. He lounged on the threadbare cot as if it were a feather bed in some nobleman’s chamber, a smug smile spreading across his face when he saw me.

“So you’ve finally come,” he drawled, rising to his feet with a lazy stretch. “I was beginning to think you’d abandoned your father’s faithful servant to rot.”

I slid the key into the lock, the mechanism grinding with a satisfying click. “Faithful is hardly the word I’d use. Now shut up if you want to be free.”

“The lady has teeth tonight,” he chuckled, sauntering toward the door as I swung it open. “I didn’t think you had it in you, arranging a prison break. How… cunning.”

I tossed a dark cloak at his face, enjoying the momentary muffled curse as he caught it. “Put that on and keep your mouth shut. You’re worth nothing to me if you’re caught.”

I kicked his shin, perhaps harder than necessary. “Move. Now.”

Laurel glanced nervously over her shoulder. “My lady, we should hurry. The guard change happens soon.”

We moved through the dimly lit corridors, past the snoring guards—Laurel’s handiwork—and into a narrow passage hidden behind a wooden panel. The musty scent of disuse filled my nostrils as I led them deeper into the maze of tunnels beneath the palace.

“How fascinating,” Gareth whispered, his voice echoing slightly against the damp stone walls. “I didn’t know Lady Ilyana would be familiar with such hidden paths. I doubt even the king knows of these tunnels.”

“Do you ever stop talking?” I hissed over my shoulder.

“No wonder if anyone could find these tunnels, it would be the cunning brain of yours,” he continued, ignoring my glare.

The tunnel narrowed as we descended, the air growing colder and heavier with moisture.

My hand trailed along the rough-hewn wall, muscle memory from my past life guiding me through the darkness.

Every twist and turn was etched into my mind—memories of fleeing through these same passages when soldiers came for my family.

After what felt like an eternity, a gust of fresh air brushed against my face. We emerged through a hidden door set into the base of a cliff, Lake Calista stretching before us, its surface rippling with the first drops of rain.

I need to go back quickly. The tunnels will flood in rain.