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C ora wasn’t sure why she chose to return to her childhood bedroom. She could have had her pick of rooms, ones that didn’t bear memories of the last time she was here, dressing in a gown in preparation to meet her brother for the first time in six years, only to find him controlled by dark magic. Nor the time before that, when she’d pouted on her bed after pretending to curse the queen. The queen who’d later died…

She shook the morbid memories from her mind and returned her attention to the present. She sat at her vanity while Lurel brushed her hair. Even after two days back at the castle, she still wasn’t used to being waited on like this. Dressed. Brushed. Bathed. Forced to sit idly while others served her. It aggravated her, reminded her that this princess persona was all an act, made her want to flee the confines of the castle walls and leave this curated world of cruel politics and false politeness behind.

This is all for Dimetreus , she told herself. It’s for the sake of Khero .

Lurel continued to comb Cora’s hair, a task that seemed endless despite the girl tending to it twice a day. Cora’s eyes darted toward the window and the glow of the setting sun. It was a most welcome sight, for as soon as night fell, Cora had plans to escape the castle and throw off the guise of princess. Temporarily, of course, but the thought had her antsy with anticipation.

She was desperate to be surrounded by trees, close to the elements the Forest People had taught her to revere. To feel her magic buzz around her so she could embody the witch she was. It was a part of herself she couldn’t fully let go of, only hide, betray, and publicly refute. All for the sake of being a princess and proving to those who distrusted her that she was nothing like Morkai. If only she could trust them to understand that there was a stark difference between witch magic— quiet magic —and the sinister sorceries the duke had dabbled in.

But no, they did not understand. Which meant if she wanted to utilize the Arts in any obvious way, she needed to do it where no one would see her. That was exactly what she intended to do tonight. Once she was in the woods, she could perform a clearing ritual on Morkai’s crystal.

There was an additional reason she was eager to sneak out tonight: to see her unicorn friend again.

Her knee began to jiggle, and she sat on her hands to keep from fidgeting. What she really wanted to do was shake off Lurel. The sooner the girl bid her goodnight, the sooner Cora could proceed with her plan. Still, she knew her maid was ordered by her father to keep a close eye on her. The last thing she needed was to cast herself under a suspicious light.

Lurel, though, seemed perfectly oblivious to Cora’s anxious state. “How can your hair get so tangled after just a day?” she said with a grunt as she worked at a large knot at the end of Cora’s dark tresses.

“Is that abnormal?” Cora asked.

“Perhaps I’m only used to Mareleau’s hair. Her hair is always tangled in random braids by the end of the night, but her hair is smoother than yours and easier to brush.”

Cora tried not to take offense at that, but any mention of Princess Mareleau—no, Queen Mareleau now—set her teeth on edge. She still couldn’t shake their first meeting and the woman’s icy demeanor. Worse was the fact that she was expected to arrive at the castle in the next few days.

“Why was the king so distraught yesterday, Your Highness?”

Cora tensed at the unexpected question.

When Lurel received no answer, she elaborated. “When we went to…to that room. You said he was grieving and that I didn’t understand his complex past or the castle’s dark history. What did you mean by that?”

Cora considered not answering. It wasn’t Lurel’s business, after all. But if it helped the girl understand the king, then perhaps she’d take her duties to spy on Cora and Dimetreus less seriously. “His wife died in that room.”

“Oh my. Queen Linette, right? That was a tragedy. But you were said to have died that night too. If you’re still alive…what really happened?”

Cora narrowed her eyes at the girl’s reflection in the mirror, wondering if she was testing Cora’s response at the command of her father. Lord Kevan had insisted she not speak about her false death, disappearance, or resurrection until after their council meeting could commence. Cora opened her senses to her maid but found only naive curiosity in her emotions. Regardless, she’d follow Lord Kevan’s rules. Until the peace pact was signed, she had to toe a fine line. “I’m not at liberty to say.”

Her lips curled into a frown. “Father won’t tell me either. All I hear is rumors from the staff. Is there anything you can tell me? Is it true what they’re saying about your brother?”

Again, Cora’s muscles tensed. “Who’s they and what are they saying about him?”

“Well, I’ve heard some of the servants whispering that a sorcerer had chained the king in the dungeon for several years and was acting as the king in his stead, and that the mage is the one who instigated the battle at Centerpointe Rock, not the king. Others say the king was working alongside the sorcerer and truly wanted to conquer Menah and Selay. The oddest rumor is that the king was being puppeteered by dark magic and hasn’t had control of his mind or body for countless years. Almost all accounts claim Duke Morkai was the evil mage. That paired with the tales I’ve managed to overhear about the battle makes me wonder if it’s true. Were there truly…ghosts on the battlefield?”

Lurel paused her brushing and met Cora’s eyes in the mirror. Her face was pale but there was a note of excitement playing around her mouth.

“Again, I am not at liberty to speak on such matters until I’ve had further counsel with your father.”

Lurel resumed brushing, shoulders slumped. “I thought you might say that. Well, what about the rumors regarding the North Tower Library?”

Cora’s blood went cold. “What about it?”

“Is it truly haunted? I heard we aren’t allowed to go in there. Naturally, some of the servants are speculating that there’s a ghost in the tower, and that if we open the door, it will come out and terrorize the castle. Sometimes I think I’d give anything to see a ghost. It would be a fright, but…oh, there’s just something so romantic about a haunted castle, isn’t there?”

Cora couldn’t agree. She’d seen wraiths, souls of the dead reanimated to fight living men. There was nothing romantic about watching men get cut down by spectral blades.

“You must have been to the tower yourself. This was your childhood home! Tell me, is there really a ghost? Perhaps the spirit of the dead queen?—”

“Lurel.” Cora whirled in her chair to face the girl, pinning her with a stern look.

Lurel took a step back, cradling the brush against her chest. “I’m being insensitive, aren’t I? I’m so sorry, Your Highness. Mareleau was always saying as much, so I suspect it must be true. I was always either annoying, insensitive, or too weak-minded, according to her. I beg your forgiveness, Highness. I seem to forget myself around you.”

Cora clenched her jaw at being compared to Mareleau. She gentled her tone. “You’re just getting a little carried away. The North Tower Library is not haunted.”

“Then why are we forbidden from entering it?”

Cora imagined it was because Morkai’s belongings were still there. She remembered what the room had looked like when the duke had brought her there for a tense chat. He’d turned the library into his personal study and filled it with an array of ominous-looking books and vials of strange liquids. With Master Arther so focused on preparing the living quarters in the castle, it stood to reason that other parts of the castle had yet to be touched. She couldn’t blame anyone for wanting to avoid the library for as long as possible.

“The library is dirty, that’s all,” Cora said. “Until the room has been cleaned, it poses a hazard.”

Lurel’s expression fell as if the answer disappointed her. Cora turned back around to face the mirror and let Lurel resume brushing. The girl’s moves were slower this time, distracted.

Finally, Lurel spoke, her voice small. “Can I stay in your room again tonight? I know I only stayed last night because I didn’t have a room of my own yet, but all this talk about ghosts has me frightened.”

Cora assessed the girl in the mirror with a quirked brow. “Your room has been furnished now. Besides, I thought haunted castles were romantic.”

“Yes, but in a morbid sort of way, and…well, if I’m being honest, Father told me to stay with you again.”

“To spy on me.”

“Highness, please don’t hate me for what he’s asked of me. I have no intention of betraying you, but—just like my cousin has always said—I am weak of mind, and I find it rather difficult to say no.”

Cora’s lips flattened into a line. She just had to bring up Mareleau again. Every mention of the woman had Cora itching to prove she was the opposite. She sat up straighter. “You aren’t weak-minded, Lurel. Your father is a powerful man and he has his reasons for distrusting me and my brother.”

“But I don’t distrust you in the least. Either way, you’re a princess. Should you demand it, I’ll go to my own room. Although…I really have put myself ill at ease about the ghosts, especially now that I know about…about the queen’s room.” Lurel’s voice climbed higher until it ended in a squeak. “My quarters are in that hall.”

Cora nibbled her bottom lip and cast a glance at the setting sun once more. Lurel’s presence would put a hitch in her plans. It was why she hadn’t snuck out to clear the crystal the night before. But at least she’d determined that Lurel was a deep sleeper. The girl had spent most of the night snoring from the other side of the large bed. Cora had tested her ease of waking when she’d left the room to visit the toilet, but Lurel had remained in the depths of slumber.

Cora released a resigned sigh. “You can stay.”

It was nearing midnight when Cora finally left her room. Dressed in her shift and teal riding cloak, the amber crystal weighing down one of her pockets, she entered the hall outside her room, finding it empty. Her shields were down, allowing her to sense nearby emotion, but every strain of feeling that reached her was calm. Muted by sleep. On silent feet, she crept down the stairs. Unlike when Morkai had the run of the castle, there weren’t guards pacing every corridor, so she didn’t have to worry about evading them. In contrast, the castle was far more heavily staffed than it had been under the duke, which made the servants’ passage a risk. So instead, she kept close to the walls, kept her shields down, and made her way straight from the keep to the kitchen.

Her heart climbed into her throat as she tiptoed out the same door she’d fled through when she’d escaped the dungeon, following the same path that led to the ivy-covered gap in the castle wall. She wrapped the elements around her, concealing her, masking the sounds of her steps. It might have been an unnecessary precaution, considering she’d yet to come across anyone, but the memory of what she was doing now echoed the escape she’d made almost two months ago, reminding her of when sentries stalked the wall, when a beastly creature shadowed her steps, pursuing her into the crevice?—

She took a deep breath, forcing herself to pause and look around. This was not the Ridine Castle she’d escaped from. Morkai’s men weren’t patrolling the wall this time, only a few bored sentries near the gate. And the Roizan wasn’t nipping at her heels. It was gone. Dead. Like Morkai.

With her nerves settled, she proceeded the rest of the way to the wall and located the opening. The narrow crevice wasn’t the most welcoming of places, but it was her ticket to momentary freedom. Shoving the ivy aside, she plunged into the dark fissure.