The fortress is under attack.
My hands shake as I grab my dress from where it's draped over a chair. I yank it on, fingers clumsy with panic, not bothering with the laces. I need to get to the infirmary. People will be wounded. Bleeding. I can help, I can—
The door slams open hard enough to crack against the wall.
I spin, and Matron Eska is there, her face set in grim lines. She's carrying a loaded crossbow.
"You," she says, pointing at me. "Stay here. Lock the door. Don't open it for anyone but Lord Vorak or Captain Rurik. Understand?"
"What's happening?"
"Crown forces." She crosses to the window, glances down, curses under her breath. "A full garrison by the look of it. They came through the east wall—someone sabotaged the ward stones."
Sabotaged. Which means someoneinsidethe fortress helped them.
My stomach drops. "They're here for me."
It's not a question.
Eska's silence is answer enough.
"They're calling you thebloodkey," she says quietly, still watching the courtyard. "Thebloodline. I don't know how, but they know what you are, girl. They know what you can do."
Ice floods my veins.
They know.
The magic. The golden light. The way I'd pulled Vorak back from the curse's edge.
Someone saw. Someone told.
And now men are dying because the Crown wants me back.
"Stay here," Eska repeats, already moving toward the door. "Lock it. Bar it. Don't be a hero."
She's gone before I can respond, the door slamming behind her.
I stand frozen for three heartbeats.
Four.
Then I grab the iron candlestick from the bedside table—heavy enough to brain someone if it comes to that—and follow her out.
I'm not hiding in a room while people die for me.
The corridor is chaos.
Soldiers running. Servants fleeing with armfuls of supplies. Someone shouting orders I can't make out over the clash of steel and the screams.
I press myself against the wall, trying to stay out of the way, trying to think.
The infirmary. That's where I need to be. That's where I can actuallyhelp.
I make it halfway down the main stairs before I see the fighting spill into the entrance hall.
Three Crown soldiers. Two of Vorak's men.
I freeze, candlestick raised, as one of the Crown soldiers goes down with a blade through his ribs. The other two press the attack, and I can see Vorak's men are flagging, one already bleeding heavily from a gash across his shoulder.
