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Mara sat on her floor, glaring at herself in the mirror. Her hair draped her face, tendrils curling and licking the corners of her cheeks as they clung to her skin. Her eyes had dark rings beneath them—sleep in Kairth proved difficult to come by.

It had been two days since she arrived and the prince had been sporadic in his sightings, only conversing with her at dinner. The queen had assured her she’d make time for tea one afternoon but had been too busy since to meet. Even the ladies of the court didn’t seem interested in conversing with Mara.

The boredom washed over her, settling within her bones, making them shake with cornered angst. It thrummed through her, begging for release, her fingers restless. She had already written letters to her father and brother. She had the guards show her around, studying and admiring all of the elegant paintings. She went through and tried on all of the clothes that she found in her wardrobe. She took several baths. She perused the library as many times as she could, bringing new books back to her room every day to read. It had been too rainy for her to explore the gardens comfortably—she wanted to see the lyre flowers that Acastus had promised to be imported. As long as the soil is soddened with blood, the flowers can grow anywhere. And every time she asked a guard to take her to the oceanside, they refused, saying she was to stay inside the castle grounds—the only reprieve she had, she was being prevented from seeing.

Mara’s feet outstretched, her eyes narrowing in on herself in the mirror across the room. She still had her nightgown on, similar to the one she wore when she spotted Evrardin trekking in from the sea late last evening. The closer he got, the more she could make out. He was doused in deep red. His pants, shirt, hands, and even his hair were blood-encrusted. His shirt sat unkempt, his hair falling out around his face, loose tendrils sticking to the blood. Mara hated that she got a swirl of curiosity the second she saw him. She had so many questions. But she also didn’t want to have to engage in conversation with Evrardin. With what little she knew about him, she was confident he wouldn’t want to talk to her either. And even if she had wanted to, she hadn’t seen him since that night.

The moment she had mentioned Evrardin, questioning his appearance, the prince made her go back to her rooms. “Why would Evrardin be down by the beach this late at night?” she had asked, her eyes still focused on the burly man while the prince hovered somewhere behind her.

Acastus leaned over her shoulder, spotting the armed captain walking back to the castle. The heat radiated off of Cas as he bent closer to her. He escorted her immediately back to her rooms, insisting he had other business to attend to. But Mara wasn’t convinced—what business could the prince possibly have in the middle of the night? She concluded that it had something to do with Evrardin. Acastus’ face had been austere when he left her, but she could see fury circling within his silver entrancing eyes.

Mara shook the memory from her mind and slid on her slippers, tugging on an appropriate dress, and left her room to head for the library, unsure of what else she should be doing. She thought she could be preparing for the Solstice, but no one was around to explain to her the events that would soon unfold in the coming days. She tried to engage the men who guarded her door and escorted her around the castle in conversation, but they would only grunt answers; they were worse than Evrardin. Company never felt so sparse.

She entered the warmly-lit library, the glow shining in from the glass cupola spreading angled beams of sun rays, capturing the dust and making them shine like stars. The guard who had been watching her during the days—so much for Evrardin being her only escort—took his usual spot against the first shelf, leaning his back on the chestnut wood, watching her as she shifted within the room.

Mara gave him a weak smile, futile in gaining any responses from him. His graying hair was cut short around his head, deep wrinkled lines cutting through his face. Mara thought he looked too old to be one of the Royal Guards, but she supposed that’s why he was guarding her and not the king or prince. She wasn’t worth their revered sentinels.

Mara had explored a great portion of the library by now, but there was still so much left to uncover. She strolled around, edging toward the back of the stacks. Down a far-left corridor, the light swept into shadows, the wood floorboards decaying and the sconces barely hanging onto the wall. She had a desire to slither further down the hall to explore, but with the darkness—no light from the skylight made it this far—she decided she’d finish seeking out the oddities in the main section of the library first.

After sifting through books for what felt like hours, she found herself climbing a ladder to the forbidden section Evrardin had pointed out the other day. Her heart raced as she approached closer, the bookcase encased in a golden cage. Her fingers stroked the side of the metal, gently pulling to see if there was any give. The cage didn’t budge. She huffed when her fingers twisted around a lock. She knew her next mission was to find a key to open the gate. If anyone got upset, she’d blame it on the fact that she had been left alone with no one to interact with. What else was she supposed to do as she went stir-crazy?

If she sat still for too long, she’d be crushed with the reminder that she was in Solstrale, not Wrens Reach—not her home. No Jessamine or Azor. No jousting grounds or secret exits where she could escape into town and watch the fighting rings. Soon she’d be wed to a stranger, and handsome as he was, she couldn’t coax down the rising disquiet, thinking about her wedding night. Of her entire future. No longer the Glass Princess. Now, under the sun goddess, she’d become the Sun Princess, a title foreign to her. Everything here was foreign to her. Even the soft sandstone walls were something she wasn’t used to. And the company making her feel like an unwanted guest.

She scanned the tomes, looking for a weak spot to work one of the books out, and gazed across the title down one of the spines, The Misuse of Moat Maintenance, and almost audibly laughed. Why would this book be locked within the forbidden section? She assumed it must have been mixed up by one of the scribes and shoved in with the other dark and foreboding tomes.

As she worked on the gate, she noticed a tome left on one of the side study tables a few shelves down, its sides gilded in gold. Curiosity overtook her and her feet led her to the book before she knew what she was doing. Her fingertips stroked the soft leather, reading the title to herself softly. “ Forbidden Curses and Other Enormities: Speak No Evil Emendations .” The cover had a swirling pattern engraved, little sparks jutting from its cortex, appearing like it was moving.

She flipped through several pages, finding nothing but boring historical lectures laced in the pages. She went to close the book, disappointed with a name that sounded so promising when her eyes caught hold of a word in bold: Acquiesce and Divine Loyalty .

She skimmed the first few paragraphs then sat herself in the chair tucked into the table, using her finger to hold her place as she read intently.

Under King Prothysis, the act of casting, brewing, or hexing any living persons to gain full submissive and unyielding control had been strictly forbidden as of 345 A.G. See also Subservient Curses p. 468

One of the most powerful incantations, conducting an acquiesce curse, requires unmuddied blood—full connection to the gods.

With the fall of the gods, full-blooded magick has dwindled drastically, intense incantations of this nature no longer accessible. However, it is said, obtaining dark magick—magick stolen directly from the Veil—can grant even the weakest magick wielder with enough prowess.

She skimmed the rest of the passage, flipping page after page. A swirl sigil indicated a new chapter, and she slowly traced her eyes over the ink. Deities and the Threat of Sviks .

She squinted as she trailed the passage and saw notes scribbled in the margins. She read the messy handwriting carefully.

Sviks, a deceptive creature of the Veil, live amongst the deities, but not in peace. They’re known to mimic godly forms, though it’s more likely they’ll take the form of a lower creature, specifically a glassfairier, hoping to steal their place in the living realm. A creature trapped in the Veil but seeking nothing but escape.

A bang startled her and she slammed the book shut. Mara reset the book so it looked like how she found it, her fingers leaving marks in the dust along the binding. She scoured back to the first floor, an uneasy, foreboding feeling weighing her down. The book was left out and Prince Acastus gave her free rein of the library, but the trepidation was relentless.

Mara tripped on her way out of the stacks, stubbing her toe against one of the dense bookshelves. “Shit,” she hissed.

“Are you all right, Princess?” Sir Yven asked her as she stumbled toward him.

“Yes. Quite,” she attempted to say nonchalantly.

Sir Yven walked her back to her chambers, Mara’s mind spinning with her newfound information, unsure of what to do with it.

Mara attempted to repress her thoughts of treason, unsure why her mind was straying so wildly from such a simple text.

“Princess,” a regal voice called out from behind her. Her heart froze.

“My Prince.” Yven bowed slightly, his body shifting toward Acastus as he sauntered up beside them.

“I have it from here, Sir Yven. I’d like to speak with my betrothed.” Acastus gave a derisive grin.

Mara returned a weak smile as Sir Yven was dismissed and headed in the opposite direction.

“How have you been?” the prince asked her, sticking out his arm for her to grab.

Mara obliged, resting her hand on his forearm, allowing him to lead her through the vast castle corridors. “Very well, My Prince,” Mara answered, giving him the most convincing optimism she could muster. Acastus’ gloved hand came up and hovered above her own before he placed it softly atop hers, sending gooseflesh up Mara’s spine at the ghostly touch.

“Sleeping all right?”

They turned a corner, edging closer to Mara’s chambers. “Yes,” she muttered.

Cas raised a brow, appearing curious, like he knew Mara was blatantly lying about something so trivial. The dark rings around her eyes were apparent, making her hazel irises shine brighter against the dark.

As they walked arm in arm through the castle, Mara took notice of the way some corridors seemed darker than the others. Just as that one dark corner of the library where the cobblestone seemed to be rotting, places inside the castle were desolate and collapsing.

Acastus called her attention back to him. “I don’t mind you spending your time in the library. If anything, I encourage it,” Acastus began as she turned her head to look up at him. They stopped in front of her doors. “But I expect you to know better than to snoop around where you don’t belong.” His voice was low but still laced with saccharine as he spoke before the sentinel posted outside her rooms, but she knew something more cynical lay beneath, like gooey caramel that hardened once it made contact with cool air.

He fully faced her, her heart racing wildly in her chest. His arm unraveled from hers, his hand sliding up behind her neck as he leaned in close enough that only she could hear him. “Is that understood, Princess?”

Mara wasn’t entirely sure what he meant, but she wasn’t about to question him, suddenly out of her depth. She hadn’t taken the prince for someone to threaten his betrothed.

A sharp burn etched on her skin where his hand wrapped around the back of her neck. She winced, nodding to hide her pain. Acastus gave a sly grin, clearly satisfied with her acknowledgment.

Just as fast as it arrived, the stinging was gone, soothed by the rush of cool air as Cas’ hands hung by his side. He stood tall, towering a good five or six inches above her. His dark hair was pushed back apart from one rebellious curl that rested over his forehead. He truly was beautiful. But now she feared that beauty disguised something far darker inside him.

“Well,” Acastus said sharply. “Go on,” he gestured to her door that had been opened by her guard.

She gulped, giving him a small nod as she scurried into her room. She heard the prince chuckle as the door closed and she was left alone in her apartments again.

Mara took a deep breath, her mind spinning. Such a simple warning he gave her, and yet she could feel the fire and depth behind his words. Mara winced, reaching up to where Cas’ hand had rested on her neck. She moved in front of her large mirror, shifting her hair so she could see the expanse of her skin. There, below her ear, were scratch marks puckering with blood. Mara’s eyes widened as her fingers gently brushed over the skin, her fingertips staining red.

“Gods…” she said breathlessly, stunned that Acastus was able to leave such damning marks on her with what little pressure his nails applied—his hands gloved as well.

This began to feel like more than a simple marriage arrangement. The elegant walls of her room closed in on her and tears welled in her eyes, fearing she was no longer safe in Solstrale. She turned to the end of her bed where books were piled on her end chest, darting to them, ready to shuffle through and reread every passage, using the sleeve of her dress to pat the spot on her neck for blood.