Livia rolled her eyes. “I’ve seen the portraits, I know she was your twin, Issy.” She bent down to unlace her ballet slippers, her brown hair beginning to come loose from its chignon and falling down to frame her face. “What do you think it was like growing up in the castle for her? Do you think she was happy here?”
Issy smiled softly. “I do. I bet she and Uncle Iago had a wonderful childhood here, playing hide and seek and chasing each other through the gardens.”
Livia chewed the inside of her cheek. “She didn’t have a sister to share everything with, though. Having a brother isn’t quite the same, is it?”
Issy’s heart squeezed. “No. You and I are lucky, in that respect.” She put an arm around her sister’s shoulder and pulled her closer.
Livia grimaced. “You need a bath.” She stuck her tongue out and pretended to gag.
“So do you!” Issy pushed her sister away and laughed. Livia tossed her towel at Issy and collapsed into giggles.
“Come. Let’s order two baths and some tea and cake and make an afternoon of it. I think we’ve earned it.”
“Hear, hear!” Livia beamed. “Let’s soak our troubles away for a few hours.”
Something about Livia’s words made Issy’s stomach drop, but she smoothed her features into a smile and led the way from the dance studio back to their rooms. Perhaps a hot bath and some sweet tea would be exactly what they needed. Or, if nothing more, it would be a welcome distraction.
Chapter 7
Anders
Anders pressed his charcoal to the parchment, squinting one eye to better understand the proportions of the castle. He’d asked Marco and Paolo to find him some drawing implements, to allow him to draft a crude map that might help him to navigate the twisting halls and chambers of the Gilded Palace, and they’d spent the afternoon out in the lush gardens and wandering the labyrinth of corridors as he plotted his chart.
“Where did you learn to draw like that?” Paolo asked, a faint note of suspicion in his gravelly voice.
“I’ve always liked to draw,” Anders replied without looking away from his parchment. “But I spent the last five years as a cartographer in the Northern Army, so that is where I honed my craft.”
“You’re very talented,” Marco said, and when Anders looked up to thank him, he caught Paolo giving his colleague a sharp look. Apparently, they were still mortal enemies and not to utter any kindness to the Silver prisoner. Anders sighed. The light was beginning to fail, and he had successfully sketched a vague map of the entire palace over the past few hours. His stomach rumbled, telling him that dinner would be soon.
“Shall we retire indoors for the remainder of the evening? We’re going to need some sustenance if we’re to stay awake all night and discover the Princesses’ secret.”
Paolo nodded reluctantly. “Aye, I’m sure supper will be waiting in your room. You can continue yourinvestigatingonce we’ve all eaten our fill.”
Anders heard the sneer in his guard’s voice, but he ignored it. He was familiar with being judged and hated for who and what he was. The sudden thought of what Paolo would think if he knew about Anders’ shadow magic made him almost bark with laughter, but he covered it with a cough. The two guards narrowed their eyes at him, but he cleared his throat and said, “Shall we?”
Inside, they made their way back up to the guest room where Anders was staying. As he opened the door, the scent of roasted lamb and root vegetables hit him, making his stomach clench painfully. He hadn’t eaten a proper meal in days. A cup of wine sat beside the heaped platter.
“We’ll leave you to eat,” Marco said. “Enjoy the lamb, the cook is a genius.” He caught the withering look Paolo gave him and shrugged. “What? She is.”
Paolo shook his head and grabbed the door handle. “We’ll be right outside when you’re done. And don’t get any ideas about hiding the cutlery and making an escape attempt. You’d be dead before you could make it three steps.”
A barrageof cannon fire exploded, and Anders’ heart thundered in his chest. He needed to get to safety or he’d be killed, like his comrades.
Darting between boulders and trees, he avoided the fire lances that whistled through the air, setting alight to the dry brush and filling the air with acrid smoke. The smell of burning flesh from the corpses that lay scattered across the field stung his nostrils and made his eyes brim with tears.
Shouts in a language he didn’t understand reached his ears and he froze, terror flooding his veins and turning his limbs to lead weights. They were so close by, they were going to find him. It was only a matter of time. And when they found him, they would either kill him on sight or take him prisoner and torture him until he told them everything he knew. Which was very little, but they were unlikely to believe that.
Footsteps just an arm's length away made Anders’ skin break out in goosebumps, despite the heat. His stomach lurched as he felt his magic erupt out of him, cloaking him in shadows and hiding him from the enemy soldiers who appeared in the jungle clearing, spears and torches in their hands. Nausea rippled through him as he fought to keep the shadows in place, despite his aversion to his dark magic. Sweat beaded on his forehead and trickled down his temples.
Another cacophony of explosions made his heart stop and his head pound. He squeezed his eyes shut and covered his ears to block out the sights and sounds of war going on around him.
“Anders. Anders!”
Anders opened his eyes and sat bolt upright in bed. His chest rose and fell sharply, his mind racing as he took in his surroundings. How had he gotten here? He was lying on his back on top of a soft, comfortable bed, still wearing the shirt and trousers he’d been given by the guards the previous day.
Relief flooded his veins, he was in the Gilded Palace, far away from the Eastern territory and the horrors he’d experienced there. But the relief didn’t last, as he remembered why he was there and just what was at stake if he failed yet another mission.
“Anders, are you awake?” Marco and Paolo stood in the doorway, concern writ large on their faces.
