I stayed tucked against the wall and looked around. Directly in front of me rose the side of the castle, madeof stone, just like Bylur’s. To my right, the sky lit in a rainbow of sunsetting colors with a few wispy clouds making dark blues and purples swirl together. I saw the gate rising higher than the rest of the wall and imagined a front courtyard at the entrance of the palace.
To my left, just rising above the walls, grinned a gibbous moon. I leaned my head back against the stone behind me. East of the sun, west of the moon. Would Bylur be inside somewhere, bound to a queen he detested? Or would he be in some kind of prison? A shiver ran down my spine. I hated prisons.
The grounds I could see were completely empty, so I slipped out of the shadows of the wall and followed a cobbled path that ran between manicured flower beds toward the back of the castle. I needed to get inside, probably posing as a maid, to get some more information. But I also needed to hide my pack.
As I rounded a small tower, I spotted the perfect solution: a hedge maze. Did every castle have one? They seemed to be a thing in the two winter fae kingdoms I’d seen now.
I picked up my pace until the evergreen walls hid me again. Following the outer edge, I took two turns and stopped in a corner where I’d hear anyone coming before I saw them. I dumped everything in the pack out onto a stone bench, tucked Brielle’s ring into a pocket on my skirt, and then stared at the peaches. I wanted to keep them, but I wasn’t sure if my dress would smash them.
It didn’t matter. I couldn’t risk leaving them here and losing them. I rearranged my pockets so two were completely empty, and slipped a peach into each of them. I slid the empty bag and leftover food and water under the edge of a hedge bush, and picked up the last peach. Maybe I could trade it with someone to get enough clothes to pass as a maid.
“Unbelievable. She’s so disconnected from reality that—”
The angry mutterings prompted me to jam the last peach into a pocket, tuck the key inside my jerkin, and pretend as if I were walking toward the voice.
Moments later, a woman close to my age rounded the corner and froze, facing me. Not woman. Fae. She could be over a hundred since she looked my age. A dark mole dotted her forehead above her left eyebrow, and she carried a goblet and a plate with a chicken leg on it. She was taller than me, and she narrowed her eyes instantly. Not friendly, then.
“Who are you, and what are you doing here?” she demanded. Nope, not friendly at all.
But she wore a black dress with a full white apron—surely a maid’s outfit. And I wanted a maid’s costume.
Plastering my most casual, friendly smile in place, I dropped a quick curtsy. I needed to win her over, at least enough to trade me for that apron. “Auria, at your service. And, obviously I’m hiding from people who annoy me, which… it sounds like you might be doing also?”
She didn’t smile. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
I took a cautious breath, hoping this would work. “Well… I heard you talking about someone disconnected from reality.” I shrugged. “That sounds annoying.”
She relaxed her face and plopped onto the bench, slamming the plate and goblet onto the stone so hard I was surprised they didn’t spill over. “It is very annoying.”
I scanned the paths ahead and behind us, trying to make a show of hoping we were alone, and then sat next to her. I clasped my hands the way Brielle did when she’d get excited. “Tell me about it.”
She raised a brow. “Do you know who I am?”
I shook my head slowly. Was I going to ruin everything with this bit of honesty? A maid who expected to be known? How was I supposed to guess at that? I winced. “No, I don’t. Sorry?”
She huffed and straightened up. “I could tell you, but then you’d become as annoying as everyone else in this kingdom.”
I puckered my lips, thinking about my friends’ advice on bargains and trades. “I doubt it, but I’ll make you a deal. If you tell me who you are, and promise not to tell anyone about me, I’ll tell you who I am and enough details about why I’m here that I’m sure you’ll be surprised.”
An intrigued smile crossed her face. “I haven’t been surprised in decades. And nobody has tried to bargain with me since I was publicly shamed. But if you want to make your deal with me, knowing that you toowould be ostracised if our bargain were known, I’ll do it.”
My eyes widened. “A fae maid who is publicly shamed?” I leaned closer to her. “I’d love to learn your story. And I’ll tell you mine. But you must promise not to tell anyone about me.”
She grinned. “A human who wants a bargain of secrets? I’m in. I promise not to tell anyone about you if you tell me your story, and I’ll tell you mine first. It’s a bargain.”
“I agree.” I didn’t know if that was the correct thing to say, but a hot burning flashed across my wrist before I could think about it any more. A dark tattoo, shaped like a scroll, appeared on my wrist. I looked at the maid, and she lifted her wrist to show me the same symbol.
“It’s a bargain,” I whispered, remembering Dedalus’s instructions.
“Indeed.” The maid sounded as awed as I was. Maybe it was her first bargain too? When had she been shamed?
She rubbed her hands together. “My story first. I had the misfortune of being born with the wrong magic.” She snapped her fingers and a flame appeared in her hands. “Fae don’t control what kind of magic they get. My mother, Queen Daneira, expected me to have ice magic like her and my father.”
She shrugged and fisted her hand, extinguishing the flames. “I have fire instead. But my mother wanted her heir to showcase proper winter magic, so I was publiclyshamed and assigned to the service.” She waved her hands over her apron.
My jaw fell. “That’s terrible! Fire magic sounds amazing.”
She smirked. “Maybe if you’re human. But in a winter fae realm, ice magic is prized over all.”
