I glance toward my vanity, where the drawer holds a small container.
Usually, before I go to bed, I take a pinch of Ezra’s sleeping powder, mixed in my water or tea. It hasn’t failed to keep me from wandering in my sleep like I used to when the nightmares rip me away. It normally works quickly to relax my muscles, lulling me into a deep sleep and making it almost impossible to get out of bed.
It also worked on Torbin, that evening in the tower. It weakened him enough so that I could overpower him and force him off the balustrade.
So a little pinch in Indira’s tea should be sufficient to incapacitate her long enough for me to sneak out for a few hours.
I sit at the vanity and slide open the drawer, fingers trembling slightly as I open the container and spill a small amount into a silk handkerchief. The powder is pale and fine, almost weightless. I quickly fold the handkerchief to close it securely around the powder.
When the door to my room opens, I slip the pouch of silk into the pocket of my robe and smooth my expression, grabbing a brush and glancing at Indira in the mirror.
She enters, yawning dramatically. “You know, if the king intends on making this a permanent thing, I’m going to ask for a cot instead of this chair.” She carries her usual mug in one hand, a book tucked beneath the other arm.
I smile faintly, taking my place at the vanity. “You should be happy. We leave for the legitimization tour tomorrow. Maybe you’ll get yourown room.”
She snorts and plops into the armchair. “I suppose you wouldn’t imagine it, being a princess, but servants usually have to share rooms when we travel. There will probably be six of us stuffed into a room the size of your armoire.”
I feign a laugh, brushing my hair slowly, watching her in the mirror. “Have you ever been to any of the other realms?”
“Podrosa, once. But I was young. It rained the whole time, and my boots fell apart. That’s all I remember.” She sets her book in her lap, fingers curling around the mug.
My palm tightens around the pinch of powder. “That’s about as far as I’ve traveled as well. From what I remember, anyway. Even when my parents attended the symposiums the realms used to hold, Bennett and I would stay in Delasurvia with my uncle.”
I step away from the vanity and walk toward her, the powder clutched between my fingers.
“I’m not looking forward to Bastos,” she says. “The temperature there doesn’t agree with me.”
“It’s a shame we’re not going to Alphemra. I would love to see where my mother’s side of the family lives. I don’t even know if they would know who I am.”
She lifts her brows, clearly about to respond, but I tip my hand toward her book instead.
“You always read the same story?” I ask.
She huffs. “Not always. But I’m a creature of habit and always drift back to my favorites.”
With a flick of magic, subtle and controlled, I nudge the book off her lap.
It falls with a soft thump and skids beneath the chair.
Indira groans. “For the love of figs—” She sets the mug on the side table, then leans forward, stretching, fingers swiping at the leather spine.
I use my magic to nudge it just out of her reach, and as she bends lower, I tip the powder into her tea.
It dissolves in a whisper.
By the time she straightens, book in hand, I’m smiling faintly and heading back toward my bed. I let my silk robe slip from my shoulders, draping it over the footboard. Beneath, my nightgown clings softly to my frame, featherlight and cool against my skin.
Indira blows on her tea and takes a sip. “Try to sleep, Your Highness. We leave early.”
“Goodnight, Indira,” I say, sliding beneath the covers. “I hope you get some rest as well.”
She nods, already settling deeper into the chair. I keep my eyes on the ceiling, but my senses are taut—listening for every breath, every shift of weight. My fingers curl around the dagger strapped to my thigh beneath the sheets.
Dante said the passage was safe. Still, I’m not foolish enough to go unarmed.
Minutes pass. The fire pops. And my thoughts wander.
I hope my uncle is okay.
