ChapterOne
Moonlight streamed through the paned windows, illuminating the hallway brighter than I would have liked. Although there were still plenty of shadows to hide in, the moon seemed to taunt me. Glowing as milky white as possible just to spite my efforts.
No matter. The moon could try to ruin my plan all it wanted. I would not be unnerved. My focus was too narrow. My intent too decided. Besides, what was a little light to someone like me?
Candled sconces were placed evenly down the corridor, but this deep into the midnight hours, only every other one was lit. Giving plenty of space to slink along walls, melt into shadowy corners, and avoid detection.
Oliver was nothing but a dark cloak, camouflaged and silent, as he played the lookout ahead. I watched him while I stood still as stone, waiting for the signal. A swoop of his black cape, a flash of pale skin, and then nothing as he pressed back into soundless discretion.
Beyond him, a pair of guards tromped through the quiet hallways, sluggishly watching for all manner of evil. Neither of them would have suspected the biggest threat they faced tonight was Oliver and me. And why would they? I was their future queen. Oliver a failed monk.
Their low rumble of voices drifted toward me, but it was too mumbled to understand. A snippet of something about their suppers. A wistful sigh as the minutes ticked toward morning. And a sarcastic quip about the ghosts in residence.
Their good-humored conversation continued as they walked on, their voices and footsteps growing quieter as they got farther away. When all was silent again, Oliver still didn’t move. I counted to five. I practiced stealthy breathing. I closed my eyes and imagined I wasn’t just pressed against a stone wall but actually a part of it. It was cold against my back and through my own dark cloak. Pressing my palms flat against its surface, I let the coolness of it seep through me. I was surprised it still smelled faintly of dirt and the outdoors—even though it had been a wall much longer than it had been in the earth.
Or maybe that was wrong.
Maybe it had been here at the beginning of this world. A hillside or mountain. A foundational stone that was once happy to let the sun shine on it and the moon bathe it in creamy light. At some point, it had been moved here and formed into more than what it was. Now it was a decorated wall in a decorated castle. It was no longer nature, but building. No longer free, but resigned to servitude.
Even if it was for a good cause.
I couldn’t help the small squeaky sigh that pushed from my lips. Was I still talking about the stone wall? Or was this some twisted version of my own troubles?
I had never been a foundational piece of stone for the earth to build and breed upon. But I had once lived a much simpler, much freer lifestyle. And through only fault of my own, I’d traded that carefree life for one trapped inside a gilded cage, destined to serve a kingdom for the rest of my royal life.
I shouldn’t complain.
What was there to complain about?
I’d survived. I’d survived my childhood hidden in a tucked-away monastery. I’d survived a lengthy journey across the Nine Kingdoms with the crown secreted away in my pouch. I’d come face-to-face with the Rebel Army, somehow made allies with them, and discovered Crown Prince Taelon Westnovian’s alternate identity. And I’d conquered the trial my uncle had held when I’d shown up on his doorstep uninvited. Conandra had tried to fell me, yet I prevailed. And now I was on my way to being queen. The very thing I’d wanted so badly just months ago. So why did my new, safe, stable position in the royal house feel so... flat?
Revenge still dangled like an out-of-reach ripe fruit. Revenge for my family’s murders. Revenge for the life that was snatched from me. Revenge for a lifetime of heartache and trouble.
And while I reached and stretched to touch that forbidden apple, everything else felt like... a waste of time.
I did not expect to be so bloodthirsty. But here we were. Six months into my uncle’s care, and I was merely dressed in pretty gowns, pranced around for visiting monarchs to ogle, and asked to sit still and shut up until it was my turn on the throne.
And even then, I wasn’t convinced anyone would listen to what I had to say. Back at the Temple, I had been constantly stretched—both mentally and physically. Father Garius had been a relentless taskmaster when it came to my studies and training. And while there weren’t many to converse with, my voice was still respected, still admired. Whether it was questions for the Brotherhood who answered in their own silent way or haggling with the village vendors who were determined to get the most coin for their wares, I felt as though my words were listened to when I spoke.
Now I was bored to tears and chomping at the bit to hold real, tangible power.
Which led us here. To this hallway.
Oliver’s quick movement ahead pulled my attention back to the present. He glanced back just once, his face a flash of determination, his jerking jaw a signal for me to follow.
Real or imagined, spirits from the past followed my stealthy movements as I slinked down the corridor. This had been my family’s wing once upon a time. Back when I had a family. Back when I was a child. My uncle Tyrn had renovated these rooms years ago, but since my return, he’d discouraged me from visiting them.
I had protested more than once, but there was a strong belief throughout the castle that this wing was haunted. Fascinated by the ghosts of my mother and father lingering in these rooms, I was anxious to explore. But the general tone of the haunting was malicious. Or so says the maids and guards. And so Tyrn had been reluctant to let me loose in a part of the castle where the royal bloodline could end, thanks to an incorporeal attacker.
After months of asking politely, I had decided last week to take matters into my own hands and enlisted Oliver to help execute the mission. We’d spent several days slyly observing the night watches and the comings and goings of the guards. Then we waited for an opportunity to escape my detail unnoticed.
It wasn’t that I was under lock and key, at least not since the trial, but there were men to watch after me, make sure I wasn’t attacked or kidnapped, and report all my comings and goings back to my uncle, etc.
So Oliver and I had been careful, bided our time, and waited until we had a decent idea of how the royal guard operated. If we were honest, the guard was not so invincible that I felt entirely safe after our assessment. But a lapse in their oversight and procedure would be a nice piece of knowledge to keep tucked away for a rainy day. One never knew when they would need to sneak in or out of a walled fortress.
But now there was to be a ball. For me. A welcome home of sorts where Tyrn invited nearly the whole of the Nine Kingdoms. Tomorrow the halls would be full of royals and their servants, dignitaries, ambassadors, politicians, and more servants. The quiet castle would burst to life with guests and ball preparations, decorations, and gossiping maids.
The same monarchs who tried to disprove my identity and throw me in a dungeon for the rest of my life were now about to parade their eligible sons in front of me as prospective husbands. The same royals who sneered at my claim over the Crown would bow and nod and do their best to catch my attention. And my good opinion.
