Nothing.
They’re gone.
My gaze sweeps the length of the empty corridor. No Keres. No hooded stranger. Just an unnerving silence that sends a chill skittering down my spine. I take a cautious step forward, as if the very air might betray me, and approach the place I last saw them standing.
Still empty. Still alone.
“Did you see who was with him?” she asks, her gaze following mine, like she expects hidden passageways to open up before us. Which…might not be such a foolish thought.
“No,” I whisper, my voice distracted.
I step closer and let my fingers skim the wall where Keres had just stood, the cold, smooth surface sending prickles across my skin. That’s when I notice it—a faint shadowed impression, barely discernible in the faint light. I crouch low, tilting my head as the outline becomes clearer, an intricate sequence of marks etched into the stone.
Nyssa kneels beside me, her breath brushing against my shoulder. “What is it?” she asks, her voice a low murmur. But I’m already tracing the symbols, my hand halting as my fingertips land on the most distinct mark of all—a pointed oval bisected by a jagged line.
“Marks,” I say, glancing at Nyssa with an excited smile tugging at my lips. “Given the prince just pulled a vanishing act, there must be a hidden passage here.”
Nyssa’s eyes widen, a shiver running through her as she frantically tries to brush the webs from her tangled hair. The surge of excitement within me fades, replaced by a wave of pity.
“Let’s head back to our rooms,” I say. “You can clean up, and I’ll see if Myna is there to report this back to the Flight.”
The walk back is quiet but heavy, each step weighed down by the unanswered questions lingering in the air. The memory of what we saw—or didn’t see—and our discovery of the marks in the hallway cling to me like a shadow I can’t shake. The hallways seem longer tonight, white marble stretching endlessly in our silence. When we finally reach our chambers, Nyssa doesn’t say a word. Instead, she darts toward the bathing room, shedding clothes in her wake and dragging a laugh from my lips. I turn on my heel and head to the adjoining bedroom Nyssa and Myna share. A faint glow of light spills through the cracked door as I approach. I push it open and step inside, only to freeze mid-step.
Raven stands with his back to me, a towel discarded on the floor. He’s lacing his pants, the low light casting deep shadows across the broad expanse of his bare shoulders. Muscle shifts beneath his skin as he moves with effortless confidence—either oblivious to my presence or indifferent to it.
I swallow hard, my words caught in a tangle of uncertainty.
Raven turns and his piercing eyes lock on to mine, a faint, amused smirk tugging at his lips. “Princess,” he greets smoothly, his voice low and familiar. “What’s got you so distracted?”
My breath catches, and I’m pulled back to a night long ago—a night under the pale glow of the moon over the Sorrows.
The air is heavy, the surface of the water shimmering like liquid silver. Laughter bubbles from my lips as I try, and fail, to keep up with Raven’s strong, effortless strokes back toward the shore. When he reaches the shallows, he stands and turns to me, and the sight of him soaked in water and moonlight takes my breath away.
“What’s got you so distracted?” he asks, his voice soft and tone curious, genuine—completely unaware of how his carefree grin and easy presence throw my thoughts into chaos. I’m too embarrassed to answer, to admit that his closeness, the way the water clings to his skin, and the sound of his laughter make my heart stumble in ways I don’t understand.
Raven’s smile fades, replaced by a steady expression. His gaze lingers on me, heavy with something unspoken. In a few swift strides, he closesthe distance between us. Gently, his hand lifts to brush a stray strand of hair behind my ear before falling back to his side. “What’s that look for, princess?”
I blink rapidly, my heart racing as I try to push the memory away, shoving it into the farthest corners of my mind where it can’t reach me.
“What are you doing here?” My words sound strained even to my own ears, making his smirk deepen. The innocence of those moonlit memories is gone, replaced by something heavier, sharper. I’m caught between the urge to run from the intensity of his gaze and the pull to step closer, drawn to the fire burning in his eyes.
“Bathing.” He reaches for a tunic I hadn’t noticed until now, and in one smooth motion, pulls it over his head—bronzed skin vanishing before I’m ready to look away. “The communal bath for servants doesn’t leave one feeling clean.”
“That’s…convenient. I have an update,” I say, but my voice catches as my mind tries to conjure visions from his words. Crossing my arms, I force my tone to stay steady. “Nyssa and I went to speak with some performers from the troupe. They’ve agreed to help me with my performance for the final trial, and they had some interesting things to say. But…something else happened.”
“Oh?” His brow lifts, the teasing glint in his eyes sharpening. He steps closer, his gaze searching mine. “Do tell, princess.”
“We saw Keres in a hallway off the servants’ quarters,” I say quickly, eager to sidestep his disarming confidence. “He wasn’t alone.” I pause, the memory replaying in my mind. “He was with someone…hooded, someone I didn’t recognize. They vanished before we could follow.”
The amusement fades from his expression, replaced by a frown. Without a word, he nods toward the door behind me. “Start from the beginning, Starling. I need to know everything you saw.”
Whatever levity was between us dissipates as we move to the sitting room, the flickering flames from the ever-burning fireplace casting long shadows on the walls. I recount the night, my words tumbling out faster now. There’s an urgency in my voice, the weight of what this might mean settling into my bones like stone. Raven remains silent as helistens, his earlier teasing demeanor replaced by the focused intensity of the Flight Commander.
After I finish detailing the precise location where the prince vanished and the markings etched into the wall, he stands and begins pacing, his sharp gaze darting from the firelight to the shadows dancing along the walls.
“What do we do?” I cross my arms, trying—and failing—to stifle the restless energy creeping into my limbs.
“We don’t make a move. Not yet. If he spots anyone suspicious in that hall, he’ll start hiding his secrets even deeper. You’ll keep to your routines—trials, court appearances, everything.” Raven stops and faces me, his eyes narrowing on my face. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you’re getting distracted, but luckily, you’ve uncovered something that might prove valuable.”
