Page 37

rides straight to Lake Olveen, stopping only in short bursts to allow the horse she stole from the castle stables to rest and eat. All the while, guilt threatens to drown her. She promised Sophronia she would keep Leopold safe, and instead she walked him and his brothers straight into danger.

Beatriz was right—Daphne can’t be trusted, can’t be persuaded, can’t be reasoned with. If she could go back now, wouldn’t let Leopold go off with Prince Bairre and the others. She would insist that he stay in Eldevale, where could keep a close watch on him, protect him from Daphne. If she had…

But every time she reaches that thought, she knows the truth. If she had, Leopold wouldn’t have listened to her, and short of keeping him physically restrained, drugging him with Daphne’s poisoned ring every few hours, there was nothing she could have done to stop him.

Of course, she could have resorted to using the ring. He wouldn’t be happy with her, but at least he would be safe.

And his brothers? The thought makes ’s stomach lurch, but they were never her responsibility. Only Leopold is.

When the spires of the summer castle rise into view over the treetops, urges her horse to go faster—part of her sure that she is already too late, that she will arrive to find him dead and Daphne’s hands bloodied. If that’s the case, won’t bother waiting to hear from Beatriz—she’ll kill Daphne herself.

Getting into the castle is easy for —there are even fewer guards here than at the Eldevale castle, and that was already far laxer security than is used to from Bessemia and Temarin. wastes no time finding Daphne’s room, deciding that that will be quicker than searching every room in the servants’ quarters looking for Leopold, but when she opens the door and slips inside, she finds it empty, the bed still pristinely made and a low fire burning in the fireplace. She doesn’t know where Daphne could possibly be at this time of night, but she wastes no time in combing through the room. It’s quicker here than at the castle in Eldevale because Daphne’s belongings are largely restricted to a trunk, which manages to sift through in a matter of minutes, stopping when she finds a folded piece of parchment tucked between the pages of a book of poetry.

She unfolds it, her heart plummeting further as she reads.

Dear Mama,

The trip to Lake Olveen has been dreadful, but I was pleasantly surprised to find an old friend among our party, one we’d believed dead. I’ll give him your regards, and Sophronia’s. I’ll do the same should I meet with any other familiar faces.

Your dutiful daughter,

Daphne

No, no, no, thinks, crumpling the letter in her hand. She’s too late after all. She’s failed Sophronia in the only thing she asked of her.

The door behind opens and she whirls to see Daphne standing in the doorway in her white nightgown with a cloak folded over her arm. Her braided hair is mostly undone, and she looks exhausted, her silver eyes bloodshot. Those eyes widen as she takes in , the letter she’s holding crumpled in her hand, the open trunk behind her.

“You,” she snaps, closing the door behind her, though she doesn’t move to attack. She’s clever enough to realize that unarmed, dressed only in a nightgown, she’s in no position for a fight, but then cleverness has never been something Daphne lacks.

holds up the letter. “You killed him?” she asks, but she doesn’t need an answer and she doesn’t wait for one. “Sophronia trusted you, she believed you would do what was right, and you killed him. I hope she haunts you from the stars forever for this.”

“He’s not…” Daphne trails off, the weight of ’s words hitting her. She squares her shoulders, masking the flash of true fear that flashed across her face for just the barest instant. “I didn’t kill him.”

can’t let herself believe that, not without proof, but a small spark of hope lights in her chest. “And his brothers?” she asks, digging into the pocket of her cloak to produce the other letter. “Did you kill them yet?”

Daphne’s eyes are cold as they move between the two letters in ’s hands. “I would really appreciate it if you didn’t go through my personal things. It isn’t very good manners, is it?”

“And murder is?” asks, barking out a laugh.

“I haven’t murdered anyone,” Daphne says, rolling her eyes. “At least not in a way that couldn’t be considered self-defense, though I’m tempted to break that streak with you.”

“Oh, if you managed to kill me I can assure you it would be in self-defense,” retorts.

It’s gone too quickly to be sure, but thinks Daphne might have smiled at that.

“Regardless,” she says. “Leopold is alive and well. I know who he is, he knows I know, and together, we just rescued his brothers and killed their kidnapper. I believe you knew him—Ansel?”

feels the blood drain from her face. “Ansel is here?”

“Was,” Daphne says, shrugging. “Eugenia mentioned the two of you were…involved.”

At that, can’t help but snort. “Yes, I’m sure she told you the truth of it, with no thought to casting blame and suspicion from herself and onto me.”

“Did I say I believed her?” Daphne asks. When stays quiet, she continues. “But we both know that the best lies contain shades of truth.”

flinches. “Fine, we were involved, close to a year ago. When I first arrived in Temarin and long before your sister did. It was short-lived, and when I had to choose between my loyalty to him and my loyalty to Sophie, it was so easy it barely counts as a choice at all. Eugenia, though? They were in league, brought together by your mother.”

watches as those words land, waits for the instant denial and rejection to follow, like they did the first time they had this conversation.

“Do you…believe me?” asks, not quite daring to hope it’s true.

“No,” Daphne snaps, but the venom she injects the word with isn’t quite strong enough to mask the uncertainty there.

looks at Daphne, truly looks at her, beyond the exhaustion lining her face and the bloodshot eyes and the mussed hair and the fact that she wasn’t in her own bed at this hour. Once she starts looking, it’s impossible not to see the cracks on her surface spidering larger and larger with every passing moment—the red eyes, the wan complexion, the brittleness in her face.

Of all the things expected to find when she arrived here, a broken Daphne was not one of them.

“But you don’t not believe me,” says, her voice softening.

Daphne’s throat works and she glances away. “I don’t not believe you,” she says softly, her voice cracking on the last syllable.

wants to push her further—how is it possible that Daphne can’t see all of the evidence in front of her? How canshe still not believe that her mother killed Sophronia, that she intends to kill Daphne and Beatriz, too? It is so painfully obvious to , and Leopold said that Sophronia accepted the truth easily enough. It’s frustrating, to have to convince Daphne of the truth, like having to explain to a child that the sky is blue when they want to insist that it’s red.

But Daphne isn’t Sophronia. Even if they grew up in the same world, with the same mother, their relationships with her are different. Sophronia was acquainted with the worst in her mother, she’d seen her as a villain practically her whole life, as someone to be feared. Beatriz, on the other hand, saw the empress as a force to rebel against, if for no other reason than the joy of it. She, too, had been ready to see the truth.

But Daphne? Daphne isn’t like her sisters. knew that before she even met the girl in front of her. Daphne doesn’t fear her mother; she fears disappointing her. She craves her approval, and her love, which is always just out of reach.

Calling her a fool won’t help anyone, not Daphne and not , no matter how desperately might wish to give her a good shake.

Instead, she clears her throat. “Leopold and his brothers are safe?” she asks.

Daphne’s eyes cut back to her and she gives a sharp nod. “They’re safe,” she confirms, though something in her voice sounds to ’s ears like a question. Daphne must read the skepticism in her face, because she rolls her eyes.

“You can ask him yourself in the morning,” she says. “But we’re keeping his identity a secret for now, so he’s still in the servants’ quarters. I’ll have you set up there as well—I’ll claim I simply couldn’t do without a lady’s maid and sent for one. Most people will believe it of me easily enough.”

nods. It’s a good idea— believes that Daphne hasn’t hurt Leopold or his brothers yet, but she isn’t sure that will remain the case. If she can stay close, to keep watch over him and to keep working on swaying Daphne, she’ll doit.

“Who knows the truth about him?” asks.

“You, me, and Bairre,” Daphne says, and the last name surprises —as does the glimpse of vulnerability from Daphne when she says his name. notes again that Daphne was not in her own bed tonight. Is it possiblethat Daphne is more like Sophronia than she thought, developing feelings for the prince she’s destined to destroy? “Cliona suspects he isn’t who he seems,” Daphne adds.

“Cliona?” asks.

“Lady Cliona,” Daphne corrects. “A…friend. Of Bairre’s, and Cillian’s before he…,” she adds hastily.

“Do you trust her?” asks.

Daphne snorts. “More than I should,” she says. “But you certainly shouldn’t.”

—

follows Daphne through the winding halls of the summer castle, though she barely seems to know her way. She points out Leopold’s bedroom door and doesn’t appear offended when opens it, poking her head inside just far enough to see the vague shape of him, asleep in bed, the moonlight pouring through the window just strong enough for her to make out his features. When closes the door again, she gives Daphne a nod.

“You look like you’ve seen the stars go dark,” Daphne tells her. During their brief walk, she’s managed to pull herself together, but can still see the seams and knows it is only a matter of time before they split open again. It makes her dangerous.

“The stars go dark?” asks.

“A Frivian expression,” she says, shrugging. “I don’t fully understand it, but they use it for many different things. I gather it means the end of the world.”

“And to think, in Bessemia we just called it looking a mess,” says, running a hand through her hair and catching it in a knot of tangles.

“Most of the servants’ rooms are empty,” Daphne tells her. “I believe the only ones in use are at this end of the hall. Help yourself to a free one, and there should be spare clothing in the laundry room, down and to the left,” she adds, motioning down the stone hallway.

nods, feeling uncertain. Just an hour ago, she was ready to tear Daphne limb from limb, and now…well, it still may come to that, but not tonight.

“Thank you,” she says, and Daphne walks away without a backward glance, heading up the stairs and out of sight.

finds the laundry room and a nightgown and a maid’s dress in roughly her size before locating a room with the door open and no one inside. She claims it as her own, changing into the nightgown and splashing her face with water from the basin in the corner. But as much as she would love to sleep, she needs to speak with Leopold first. She rifles through her cloak, looking for the letters to show him proof that at least a few days prior, Daphne was set to kill him, but the letters are gone.

A harsh laugh forces past her throat. Of course Daphne stole them back. It doesn’t matter, though. If Leopold truly wants to believe Daphne over , there’s no use even trying to save him, though doesn’t think it’ll come tothat.

She lets herself into his room and closes the door behind her, making no effort to be quiet. During their travels, she learned he was a light sleeper, accustomed to a soft bed, warm blankets, and total silence. Sure enough, his eyes snap open and for a moment he just stares at her, blinking like he thinks he might be dreaming.

“?” he asks, his voice coming out rough and laced with sleep.

lets out a breath. Even when she caught a glimpse of him sleeping earlier, she still worried, but here he is—alive. Now she just has to keep it that way.

“Daphne was planning on killing you, and your brothers,” she tells him, watching as he sits up, shaking his head as though to clear the sleep from it.

“My brothers?” he asks, dazed.

“I heard you found them,” she says. “Ansel was behind it?” She still can’t wrap her mind around that. Not because she doesn’t think Ansel capable of kidnapping and potentially hurting Gideon and Reid, but because she doesn’t know what he had to gain by doing it.

“Give me a minute, here,” Leopold says, swinging his legs over the side of the narrow bed. “Daphne wanted to kill us? Why—” He breaks off, then continues. “Foolish question, I suppose. Empress’s orders?”

nods. “I found the letter she sent in Daphne’s rooms back at Eldevale Castle and came as quickly as I could, but she says she’s had an epiphany and changed her mind. We’re close enough to the eastern coast—it would be an easy thing to get on a ship now, with your brothers, and sail beyond the empress’s reach.”

Leopold straightens up. “You don’t believe Daphne?” he asks.

“I don’t trust her,” corrects. “She’s…broken.”

Leopold doesn’t say anything right away, but his expression is conflicted. “Sophronia believed she could be trusted,” he says after a moment. “That in time, she could be reasoned with.”

shakes her head. “I think…I think reason is beginning to win out—deep down, I think she does know the truth. But the empress has buried her claws deep in Daphne. I don’t think she can extricate herself from that grip without tearing herself apart.”

Leopold absorbs this, his dark blue eyes pensive. “Sophie believed she could—I’m not saying she’s right,” he adds quickly when opens her mouth to argue. “But if there’s a chance…I have to see it through.”

“Even if it puts your life at stake?” asks, unable to keep a laugh from escaping. She’s thought Sophronia na?ve, but Leopold’s na?veté is truly breathtaking. “She has orders to kill you. And your brothers.”

Leopold nods. “And I’m willing to risk my life, but not theirs. Which is why I need to ask you a favor.”

’s stomach knots. She knows what he is thinking before he asks it of her, knows too that he’s right. Leopold has managed to get further with Daphne than anyone else has yet; if there is a chance for anyone to convince her to stand against the empress, it isn’t , it’s him. But still, promised Sophronia that she would protect him, and he is making it impossible to keep that promise.

“Bring Gideon and Reid to the Silvan Isles. Get them to safety with Lord Savelle—I trust him to keep them safe, and no one will be looking for them there. Everyone will assume Ansel had accomplices, that they kidnapped them back and took them east, no one will think to look west.”

knows he’s right, but she doesn’t want him to be. She can’t keep him safe from Daphne if she’s hundreds of miles away.

“Please, ,” he says, his voice low.

The last thing wants to do is break her promise to Sophronia, but she also knows that if Sophronia were here now, she would agree with him.

“Fine,” she says. “We’ll discuss it more in the morning.”

Leopold nods, relief washing over his expression. “Thank you,” he says.