I tug on another black dress, scowling at the lace fabric and ornate stitching on the sleeves as I weave the silk ribbons together along the back. The attire is the one part of Letum I cannot abide no matter the beauty and details—fighting in a skirt is a pain in the ass. And after surviving the tiger, I’ve a newfound respect for any woman capable of it.
Plucking a gilded comb from one of the many vanity drawers, I begin working through the tangles in my hair. The repetitive motion helps to soothe my unease and sharpen my mind, and after a few moments, I begin to plan.
I have to get out of this castle tonight. I no longer have the luxury of waiting Niko out, of taking my time to learn about him and the world, before making a foolproof escape plan.
The gleam in his eye as he’d leaned over me shook me to my core. It was manic and vicious, but worse than that, it washopeful.
I’ve seen the extremes a person can be driven to by hope; the atrocities committed in the search of something better, the darkness always justified by the light of the end goal.
I’ll never be anyone’s hope again.
My only saving grace is that Niko’s fervor has kept him from examining me too closely. He believes my family name is the secret, my distant connection to his ridiculous fairytale land, but he has no idea the things I hold far beneath it. In the darkest depths of myself, where no one can ever use them to hurt me again.
I braid my hair loosely down my back and slip on a new pair of the blasted silk shoes before heading back into my chambers. The kingdom is still dark outside the window, though I’ve now come to accept that Letum is always dark, no matter the time of day. Perhaps what the king said was true: this world is truly a twisted version of the stories I heard as a child—the one I’d told over and over only a few months ago, as it had been one of Zenni’s favorites.
The thought isn’t a comforting one. I’ve read enough fairy tales to know the true versions are rarely the ones presented to children. They’re filled with blood and tragedy, violence and heartbreak. And they never end happily.
This version won’t be different, especially with the kingdom under the rule of a villainous king.
My mind whirls as I stare at the world outside; at the gilded black room around me—the dark velvet throws, the silk sheets—even this goddamn dress is dark. Just like Niko’s eyes.
Just like his power. Driven by madness and pain.
By vengeance.
Niko lost control when I mentioned Pan’s name. Zenni had been enamored by the mythical figure—by his mischievousness and penchant for fun, something severely lacking in our own world—but I’d seen him differently as an adult. To me, there’d been an insidious selfishness beneath his charming exterior. A warning as to what happens to those who refuse to grow up.
I won’t be getting between the two of them, no matter the version of the story. I’ll find my own way out of this godforsaken kingdom.
Niko had been reticent to let me out of his sight, but ultimately, it was Sam who’d convinced the king to allow me to bathe before dinner. A slight pang of regret tugs at my chest as I wrap my cloak around my shoulders. As much as I don’t want Sam to be punished for my escape, there’s nothing to be done about it.
If I don’t leave now, I risk the king giving up his thin civility and locking me in his dungeons. The Strayed, the dream creatures that lurk in the shadows, the sirens in the lagoon—all of them are better than being trapped.
I press a hand to my chamber door. When it disappears instantly, my palm brushing through thin air, I release a tight breath of relief that Sam had been telling the truth about the magic being keyed to me.
Slipping silently into the corridor, I grip my sword hilt in anticipation of running into someone. But as I move through the palace, there is no sign of life at all. Only the soft flicker of the candles lining the walls.
Despite the Lunaedon’s enormous size and dark luxury, it doesn’t feel cold like the icy pits of its master’s eyes. Rather, there is a cozy comfort to its spaces, like a winter’s night beside a fire. I follow the same path Sam led me up only an hour or soearlier, through a maze of hallways and down various stairwells. When I reach the grand staircase that leads to the entry hall and the front doors beyond, my heart sinks in my chest.
The doors are thrown open to the night air, and shadowed in the threshold is Sam, staring out at the grounds beyond. I should have known the Corpse King wouldn’t leave me entirely unguarded. I freeze, wondering if it’s too late to find a different way out as I don’t relish hand to hand combat with someone of Sam’s strength.
I’m still determining the best course of action when Sam startles, spinning to face me. His shocked expression gives way to a sheepish smile. “Hey, Willa.”
He clutches his hands behind his back and chews on his bottom lip, eyes skirting around the entrance hall as a distinct awkwardness settles between us. Like I’ve caught him in the middle of something embarrassing.
I hop casually down the remaining few steps. “Nice night out?”
Sam chuckles lightly. “They’re all nice nights in Letum.”
“Do you normally stare out the front door for hours on end? Or are you waiting to tackle me if I so much as step foot outside?”
“I heard a rumor there are wild dream monsters lurking on the grounds. Kinda makes my tackling skills unnecessary,” he replies with a cheeky grin. His gestures to my cloak and raises an amused brow. “Thinking of taking your chances with another one?”
“I’m sure you’ll knock me over the head and drag me back here if I try.”
“Something tells me you wouldn’t go down easily,” Sam laughs. “And I have no intention of missing dessert to chase you across the grounds all evening.” He steps aside with an expectant look, daring me to run.
The palace grounds behind him are tempting, silent and still, but I clench my fingers into a fist at my side and force myselfto be patient. If I run now, Sam will immediately alert the king. Which means I’m going to be playing the part of obedient captive until I find a moment to slip out undetected.
