Uncle Iago removed his arms from Issy and Livia’s shoulders and extended a hand to Lady Fiona. “Charmed, M’Lady. I am Santiago, Duke of Cicera. It’s a pleasure to meet you finally. Aurelio has told me so much about you already.”
Issy’s blood drained to her feet. Why had her father told Uncle Iago about Lady Fiona? Was something more than etiquette lessons going on here?
Lady Fiona held out her hand for Santiago to kiss. “The pleasure is all mine, Duke.”
Issy’s father cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow at his brother-in-law. “Iago had just suggested that we retire inside for a spot of tea. Would you care to join us?”
Lady Fiona beamed. “I would be delighted. Thank you, Your Majesty.”
Aurelio offered her his arm, which she took, lightly gripping the sleeve of his navy damask jacket, and they walked up the steps into the palace together. Issy watched her uncle and Livia follow them inside, as the footmen began to heave both sets of luggage into the palace.
She hoped she was wrong, but she had a bad feeling about whatever was going on. Etiquette lessons were one thing. A new stepmother was quite another. She hoped her father hadn’t completely lost his senses and promised anything to this woman, Issy wouldn’t allow anyone to try to take their mother’s place; not now, not ever.
At least she didn’t need to worry about a younger male heir stealing the throne out from under her, the Southern Isle’s monarchy didn’t discriminate between male and female heirs. Unless somehow, her father could be convinced to change the law. But he wouldn’t do that to her. Even without a suitor. Would he?
Chapter 12
Anders
Anders took the note out of his pocket and unfolded it once more.Beware, Silver Prince. Do not eat or drink anything that is brought to you.What did the letter writer know? How had they discovered his true identity? He couldn’t be sure until he found them, but he could heed their warning at least.
A platter of beef and potatoes sat untouched on the side table, a full goblet of mead next to it. He’d snacked on fruit from the gardens throughout the day to stave off hunger, but now that the sun had set and he was confined to his room, his stomach groaned painfully. The delicious scent drifting from the meal he’d discarded didn’t help.
He folded the letter up and tucked it back into his pocket, then paced the floor, wearing a path into the plush carpet as he went over everything he’d learned. There had been no hidden passages anywhere in the entire palace, according to the plans Amma had shown him. Of course, they may not have been included on the plans, if the point was that they were secret. Didn’t all royal residences have servant passages, allowing the staff to move about the palace unseen? Anders suspected hehadn’t been told the whole truth about the presence of secret passages and hidden rooms within the Gilded Palace.
His disappointment that Amma had turned out to be a dead-end was palpable, and he didn’t want to believe that his strongest theory was a flop. She could have deliberately concealed the real plans from him, not wanting to trust a northerner with such sensitive information.
He knocked on the wall beside his four-poster bed and listened. It didn’t sound hollow. He traced his fingers along the wallpaper, looking for gaps or ridges where an opening might be hidden, knocking as he went. When he’d searched the entire room, he stood in the middle of the floor, hands on hips. Just because there were no passageways leading to this room didn’t mean there weren’t any in the Princesses’ rooms.
A bell chimed midnight somewhere in the castle and Anders thought he heard something else between the chimes. After an hour or more of complete silence before the bell tolled, he could hear movement across the hall—the sound of soft footsteps on creaking floorboards.
He swallowed hard and clenched his jaw as he drew his shadows around himself like a cloak. The sensation made him shudder and he had to force down the memories of his time on the battlefield, but it was a necessity if he was going to discover the Princesses’ secret and gain his freedom.
He blew out the candle, casting the room into darkness, and slowly opened the door. The hall was dimly lit, the flickering of oil lamps throwing shadows against the walls. Both Marco and Paolo appeared to be fast asleep at their posts, slumped against the wall—as did the other guards stationed outside Princess Isadora’s door. They had to have all been dosed with sleeping potion, so part of his theory was correct. A rush of adrenaline spread through him; he was one step closer to the truth.
A clatter from the other side of the Princesses’ door made Anders cross the hall and slowly open it, peering inside. His heart thundered in his chest; this was it. He’d caught the Princesses red-handed. He was about to discover the truth about the mystery and secure his freedom.
It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the lack of light, even from within his shadows. When they did, he saw the Princesses dressed in elegant, calf-length gowns and brand-new ballet slippers, their hair curled and decorated with ribbons. They were standing before the full-length mirror Anders had noticed earlier, the one he’d looked behind and found nothing but solid stone and wallpaper. He closed the door softly and moved closer on silent footsteps, hoping to see what they were doing without giving himself away. Isadora had something in her hand and was pressing it to the frame of the mirror. A pendant of some sort, on a chain.
Anders barely managed to suppress a gasp as the glass in the mirror rippled and vanished, and a staircase was revealed in place of the Princesses’ reflections. Torches seemed to burst to life along the walls, lighting the way as first Isadora, and then Livia, stepped through the mirror and began to descend the stairs.
For a split second, Anders wavered, unsure whether to run and wake the guards and show them what he had found. But what if the mirror glass reappeared the moment the girls were inside? He needed cast iron proof if he was going to convince the King.
Steeling himself, he followed them through the mirror and down the stone steps, staying as close behind as possible, not wanting to miss something and lose them. The last thing he needed was to become trapped inside this enchanted mirror. He accidentally brushed the back of Livia’s arm and she turned slightly, but the expression on her face made his blood chill. Itwas vacant, as though she were under some kind of spell. Did that explain why the Princesses were unable to reveal where they went every night? They were in some sort of trance and had no knowledge of what they were doing?
The stone steps ended and Anders realised they were outside now, the salty tang of seawater filled his nostrils and a breeze ruffled his shadows, like a cloud of smoke dissipating into the air. He clutched them tighter about himself, not wanting to be caught by whoever had enchanted the Princesses.
Isadora and Livia led Anders down a path to a jetty that stretched out over the inky black water. The night sky was studded with glittering stars, and the full moon hung lower than Anders had ever seen it, even during the Longest Night back in the most northern part of the Silver Isle.
Twelve small boats were moored along the jetty, the nearest two were empty, but the other ten each held a young woman in similarly elegant attire to Isadora and Livia. A lantern hung from the front of each boat, lighting the way. And across the expanse of shimmering, dark water, Anders could just make out a building looming in the distance. From its size, and the turrets and spires jutting towards the moon, he thought it looked like a castle. But the architecture was more Silver Isle than Golden.
Trepidation washed over him. Could the curse be the doing of his own people? His own family, even? What would provoke such an act, and what could someone hope to achieve by cursing the Golden Princesses to dance? Perhaps his father and King Aurelio had had a falling out during Anders’ time with the army, and his father had decided to retaliate. But the man Anders had known growing up was not the sort to target two innocent, teenage girls in order to get back at a rival. It didn’t make sense, and now wasn’t the time to attempt to puzzle it out.
While he’d been taking in his surroundings, Isadora and Livia had continued towards the two vacant boats and were nowclimbing in. Anders dashed after them as quietly as he could, and as her boat was the nearest, chose to jump in with Livia. There was barely room for the two of them without touching knees, and when the boat began to move by itself, powered by some sort of unseen magic, Anders had to grip the sides to stop himself from being pitched into the younger Princesses’ lap.
He looked out across the water and saw the other boats sailing smoothly towards the castle ahead of them. Theirs lagged behind slightly, most likely owing to the extra weight. Livia didn’t appear to notice though, her eyes were glassy, staring into the middle-distance.
As they neared the opposite bank and the castle came into view, Anders noticed that it seemed to be constructed from some dark rock, with twisting spires and, from what he could see, no windows. Trees surrounded the base of the castle, glittering in the moonlight, almost as though they were made of glass or some semi-precious stone.
