Rowenna doesn’t answer for a long moment, and when she does,her voice sounds even softer and farther away than the last time we spoke.Why ask me? You’ve decided you can’t trustthis versionof me, remember?
It isn’t like that! You have to understand…
Delphine snaps my name, bringing me back to the ledge. “Do you want me to take you up the mountain or not? The longer we stand here, the more likely we’ll be caught.” She points to the city streets below, where shadowy men and women bustle between lamplit homes and shops. Right now, their heads are bowed against the wind, but they could look up any second and spot us.
“This wasyouridea,” Delphine adds with a frustrated huff, and that’s what finally uproots my feet. She didn’t lure me out here.Ibeggedherto take me up the mountain. Even if she somehow manipulated me into thinking it was all my idea, it’s still my best chance to learn about Rowenna.
Potentially my only chance.
I set my teeth and force myself to move, following Delphine closely as we pick our way down the turret wall. Once our feet are on the ground, she allows me exactly one minute to catch my breath before she sets off at a breakneck pace, leading me through the maze of snow-dusted streets.
I expect the wealth and opulence of Vanzador to decline, now that we’re no longer within the palace walls, but even the broader Fortress is far more lavish and inviting than I could have imagined. Lovely stone cottages line the well-manicured lanes, each home painted a bright pastel with coordinating shutters and a neat little gravel yard. Some even have small stone tables and slides for the children. There are streetlamps on every corner, and the shops are tidy and clean, built one on top of the next like children’s blocks. It has a homey feeling. The type of city where neighbors say hello and borrow eggs and sugar. The sort where a person would feel safe walking alone after dark. A far cry from the bleak, inhospitable slumsRowenna described in her letters.
Yet another glaring lie.
Delphine stops suddenly as a group of weary, soot-streaked miners trudge through the cross street. I slam into Delphine’s back, which is surprisingly solid given her bony frame. I’m even more surprised when she claps a hand over my mouth and easily drags me into the shadow of the nearest shop, pressing my shoulders against the freezing stones.
“Pay attention! If you do that on the switchbacks up the mountain, we’ll both fall to our death.”
Like Rowenna.
We’re both thinking it, and Delphine’s face immediately softens. “I’m sorry. That was insensitive.”
“Do you really think that’s what happened?” I don’t know why I ask. Her opinion doesn’t matter, and I know better than to trust it. I guess I’m just desperate for validation. I need someone else to tell me Ro didn’t fall. That I’m not doing all of this for nothing.
Delphine’s golden braid sways with the sharp shake of her head. “Do you think I’d be out here if I thought she fell? The RowennaIknew was far too nimble to make such a careless mistake. Everything she did was measured, calculated. There’s a reason she was sneaking up the mountain, a reason someone wanted her dead, and we’re going to find it. Then you’re going to find a cure for Cloudia.”
She says this so definitively, it almost sounds like a threat.
I swallow hard against the swelling knot in my throat. I fully intend to do my best for Cloudia. If I can keep anyone from suffering the all-consuming grief of losing a sister, I will. But I’m no healer, and I’m beginning to worry I’ve promised too much.
Delphine watches me for another long moment, and it’s all I can do not to crawl out of my skin. At last, she turns and climbs a steep road leading to the outermost wall of the Fortress. A pair of guards are playing dice near a gate, and we slip past them to a section of wall conveniently hidden behind a laundress shop. It happens to be quite abit lower here, to allow a pipe to vent steam out into the dark, and the constant hiss dampens our footsteps. The thick haze conceals us as we scramble over the wall.
It’s all so disconcertingly convenient. So perfectly planned. Like this is something Delphine has done a hundred times rather than somewhere she followed Rowenna once.
Stop, I reprimand myself. Paranoia helps nothing. And who’s to say Delphinehasn’tdone this a hundred times? Or that this is even the route Rowenna took? The citizens of Vanzador aren’t forbidden to leave the Fortress. That rule only applies to me, the captive bride. Delphine probably played out here as a child, ran errands to the mines, or crept out here to kiss boys under the stars. There are a thousand explanations.
Unfortunately, none of them help me feel calmer.
“This way.” Delphine brushes off her hands and gestures for me to follow her higher still, into the boundless shadowed wilderness. “We can speak freely up here. We shouldn’t see a soul.”
There isn’t a tree or shrub in sight, only moss and scree. Which means, if someone is waiting up here, they have nowhere to hide.
And neither do we.
“Tell me more about Cloudia’s symptoms,” I say in an effort to distract myself. “When did they begin?”
“I first noticed the change several months ago. She began having nightmares, which hadn’t happened since she was a little girl. She also grew moodier and kept to herself more than usual. I didn’t worry, though. She’s sixteen. It would be strange if she wasn’t moody. Her best friend, Nenia, had also recently run off with a traveling minstrel who passed through Vanzador with his troupe.
“I felt sorry for Cloudia, of course, but I was secretly glad Nenia was gone. She was always skipping work and sneaking off with boys or trying to worm her way into the palace. She thought herself above the doldrums of common life and insisted she would become a courtier one day. And she nearly managed it. Nenia somehow found her way intoyour sister’s good graces—to the point I was certain I was going to be replaced as Rowenna’s maid.”
“How did she manage that?” I ask, perplexed. “Why would my sister spend time with a random Vanzadorian girl?”
“According to what Nenia told Cloudia, it’s because Rowenna said Nenia reminded her of herself. And, honestly, I have to agree. Both girls were so vain and entitled and—” Delphine catches herself and clears her throat awkwardly. “But then Nenia met that minstrel boy, and that was that. She was on to her next flight of fancy.”
“She gave up her courtly ambitions so easily?” I ask.
“The boywashandsome,” Delphine admits, pausing our ascent to catch her breath. “Maybe he convinced her that being a maid in the palace would never be the same as being a courtier. Or maybe Rowenna grew tired of Nenia’s company, and that’s why she left in such a hurry. Whatever the reason, she was gone, and I tried to give Cloudia space to mourn her friend. I let her sleep late and didn’t ask her to do as many chores. But instead of improving, Cloudia grew noticeably weaker and more exhausted. She missed several days of her apprenticeship, then stopped going all together, often remaining in bed until late afternoon, staring at the wall.”
