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“For without Liliwen, you would be free.” Queen Aenor stood, leaning over the table toward Rook.

“Without Liliwen, you would not die .” The queen raised her hand, and against my will, I got up.

Queen Aenor flourished her fingers, and a blade of ice formed in my palm.

She waved to Rook, on his knees. In an even voice, she commanded me to, “Draw blood.” Her smile said everything her words did not.

‘Blood for blood. I can offer an insult of my own.’

Unable to control my body, my feet carried me around the table.

They stopped me in front of Rook. I begged my fingers to release the blade, hurl it across the room and be done with it.

They would not obey, instead I brought the blade to Rook’s cheek.

Though fresh blood cut down his face in a red river, I was relieved to see most of the swelling from his previous beating had subsided.

In a subtle movement, Rook leaned into my hand, brushing my skin.

He smiled. It was more for me than him. He gave the slightest of nods.

‘I forgive you.’

With a quick slice, I nicked the flesh. Rook barely winced as a line of blood dribbled down his cheek. Hoots and cheers carried all around us.

“Marvelous!” the queen cheered. “Take him away, before we lose our appetites.”

The advisor yanked Rook up. As he was dragged from the hall, Rook raised his shackles. He gave the queen a playful wave and blew a kiss. The crowd gasped and Rook laughed. He remained laughing until he was dragged through the great doors. But in that last moment, Rook’s eyes found mine.

And the laughter vanished.

“Now that the mongrel is gone, we shall celebrate until dawn!” the queen cried. “And then, we’ll watch his head roll.” Music took over, and everyone lapsed into excited chatter. I didn’t return to my spot at the table; I found an ivy-drenched pillar and leaned on it.

An older woman pursed her lips, obviously sickened by my dress. Her own gown had tension problems, and a terrible seam allowance, with bunching in the back she’d tried to conceal with a shawl. The woman whispered something to a friend. They looked at me and laughed.

I gritted my teeth. “Do you like my dress?”

The woman looked at my back and stuck her nose up. “We were wondering if you ran out of fabric.” The comment earned another laugh from her friend.

“You didn’t have your gown made in town,” I said. “Did you?”

The woman straightened and tugged anxiously on her sleeve. “Well, no. I made it myself.” Her companion seemed surprised by the admission.

I leaned forward and said, “I can tell.”

Before the woman could decide whether I’d meant it as an insult or a compliment, Lottie appeared beside me and said, very loudly, “Yeah, you look like a big bag of shit .” Horror dropped the woman’s jaw, and she fled.

Lottie waved and leaned on the pillar. Pointing at my dress, she asked, “How’d you do that? ”

“Chimera root powder. Keeps the blood red longer.”

Lottie’s response was to cringe and lean away. “And are those…ivory?” She reached out and touched one of my earrings.

“No. Have you seen Ruven?”

Crossing her arms, Lottie said, “Nah.”

“He was here earlier; I’m not sure where he went.”

“He doesn’t seem to enjoy this crowd,” Lottie said. “From what I’ve heard, he sulks around the castle, not really trying to fit in.”

That didn’t sound like the bright-eyed, happy boy I knew. “I’m sure he misses the farm. I would…”

Bronwyn and the advisor rejoined the ball.

“I’ve never seen such cruelty from the advisor,” Lottie whispered. “I mean, they’re an executioner, usually they’re professional, but this business with the Hound… They’re savouring it; this is torture.” Lottie shook her head. “And you know, I’m all for torture, but…”

“Do you think the Hound killed someone they loved?” I asked. Lottie shrugged in agreement. “Do you have any idea who it could be, beneath the mask?”

Lottie exhaled and pulsed her brows. “Whoever she is, I wouldn’t want to run into her in a dark passage.”

“You think it’s a woman under there?” I glanced back at the advisor.

“Don’t you?” Lottie scrunched her face. “She’s so foreboding.

No man could ever be so frightful.” Lottie paused.

“You know, I once saw the advisor grab a beating heart from someone’s chest, and then punch them in the face with it.

” I turned an alarmed eye on Lottie. “Yeah.” She mimed punching an invisible foe.

“Their own heart. Their own face.” Lottie shivered. “It was great.”

“My word, Lottie.”

“Don’t get me wrong. It was terrifying.” Lottie nodded rapidly. Her voice faded to an awed whisper. “But great.”

Sometimes, of all the terrors I’d faced in my life, Lottie scared me the most.

Lottie looked at the banquet table. “You eat?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Do you have everything you need?”

“Mhm.” The bag holding my flint was tied to my thigh.

At midnight, when the ball attendees were content and drunk, I’d slip away.

I’d stashed several alcohol-soaked rags throughout the castle.

With the flint and iron, I’d bolt through the castle, lighting as many fires as I could.

While the fires grew, Lottie would sneak into the dungeon and free Rook.

We’d have to be swift, for fire would not slow Queen Aenor for long.

Across the hall, the advisor turned their dark hood upon us.

“Why are they staring?” Lottie glared back, puffing her shoulders in defiance.

“They know we’re up to something,” I whispered.

“No, they don’t.” Lottie sniped. “How could they know?”

“I have no idea. But they do.” As if summoned by our whispers, the advisor started in our direction.

“Gotta go!” Lottie pushed from the pillar.

My heart leapt. Lottie waved. I returned the gesture with a shaking fist and a tight-lipped smile that said, ‘Don’t you dare leave me!’ I looked for an escape—too late.

The advisor was upon me.

They bowed low. Refusing to return the respect, I only bowed my head.

The advisor offered me a gloved hand. All around, people gawked.

Surely, this wasn’t allowed. An executioner, showing favour at a ball?

I stared at the hand that had nearly beaten Rook to death.

At the hand that would likely land the killing blow if we failed in rescuing Rook.

I caught sight of Queen Aenor’s smug face.

She laughed as if to say, ‘Not so brave now, are you child?’

Raising my chin, I took the advisor’s hand.

It was light and nimble, like a bluebird on a branch.

They led me to the middle of the hall and placed a palm respectfully on my back.

People gave us a wide berth and stared. I barely saw the shocked faces.

Conjured images of the advisor, chopping Rook’s head from his shoulders, blinded me.

Injustice boiled beneath my skin. Rook, shackled so he might not fight back, beaten in an unfair fight.

Shoved to his knees and laughed at. All because of an innocent mistake, made so long ago.

We danced in silence, and though there was something comforting about the way their hand fit in mine, my hatred for them grew, step-by-step.

When I could contain my fury no longer, I said, “That man, the Hound—he’s not who everyone thinks he is.

” The advisor’s clothed face swivelled to me.

“He’s a good man.” The advisor spun me and brought me back.

I glared at the spot I knew their eyes would be.

“If you hurt him, I will saw off your head .” The advisor responded with an exhale of air that might have been a laugh.

The song came to an end, and the advisor bowed low and departed.

Watching their back, I suddenly felt very foolish. Why had I threatened them?!

‘Because you’re young, and you are reckless,’ the queen’s voice mocked.

Which was more infuriating? My own impulsivity or proving the queen correct?

Sweat dampened my palms as I watched the advisor leave.

Surely, they’d go straight to Queen Aenor, and I’d be taken into custody.

But the advisor didn’t go to the queen. They climbed the steps into the great hall and stood alongside Bronwyn.

Why?

I retreated to a corner. If the advisor’s allegiances did not lie with the queen, where did they?

In my shadowy corner, I passed hours watching people.

Dancing, feasting, and laughing. When I couldn’t stomach the joyful faces, I focused on the musicians.

It was almost soothing, to watch their fingers plucking the harp strings.

Gradually, the tall candles adorning the tables burned to short nubs, and the light dimmed.

Excusing myself to no one, I took my leave.

I headed toward the tower, and when I was sure there was no one around, I ducked into a side hall.

Walking quickly, I entered an infrequently used privy.

Here, I’d hidden my first tinder bundle, a combination of dry twigs and alcohol-soaked rags.

I hiked up my skirt and withdrew my flint and iron from the pouch on my thigh.

After a few tries, the flame caught, and I set the bundle down.

Crackling and popping, the fire ran up a beam and spread along the wood ceiling.

No going back now.

With the first fire burning, I had to hurry.

There were four more bundles throughout the castle, and if I made haste, I could light them all before anyone noticed.

By the time someone discovered something was wrong, an inferno would come.

I exited the privy and took off. Four more to go, and I could flee this miserable castle.

That didn’t seem so many.

I ran toward a guest bedroom down the hall. Slipping inside, I pulled back a magnificent tapestry and found my second bundle. I knelt, striking my flint and iron, until a flame sputtered to life. I stood just as the bedroom door opened.

“Lili?!”

My heart hammered; I hadn’t heard anyone stalking after me. With fire in hand, I turned to greet whoever had caught me.

Stuffing something in his pocket, Ruven cried, “What are you doing?” My eyes darted between Ruven and the flaming bundle. Ruven backed away. “You’re going to try to save the beast, aren’t you?”

“Ruven, he’s not what they say he is.”

“He killed people!”

“It wasn’t his fault!” I cried. “You must trust me.” Ruven grabbed the door, ready to slip out. “Ruven, please!” I ran forward, slamming the door and preventing his escape. “If you ever cared for me, you will leave, and you won’t tell anyone what you saw.”

“He’s fed you lies, Lili!” Ruven shook his head. “And you’ve devoured them!”

“Ruven, you don’t know who he is.”

“I know what he is!”

“And what? These people who steal children from their families are any better?” Ruven remained quiet.

“I just want to go back to my family,” I begged.

“Please. You feel the same—you can’t deny it!

” Ruven’s irises danced along my face. “You need to make a choice,” I said. “Please, make the right one.”