Page 31 of The Poison Princess and the Lord of Misrule

“Isolde.” I touch herarm to halt her.

She glances back, eyes widened in question. “What is it?”

“I’ve forgotten something in my chambers,” I say low, so the hovering courtiers don’t hear. “I’ll only be a moment.”

She eyes me suspiciously. But when I touch my belly, twisting my face into a grimace, she nods quickly. “Of course, Your Highness.”

I give her a grateful smile. “I’ll meet you at the fitting later.”

She waves the slate dismissively. “I’ll stall them. Take your time.”

I nod once, offering another smile, then peel away from the cluster of courtiers. Waiting a few beats before I change course and make my way toward the end of the gallery.

Ren doesn’t notice me until I’m standing in front of him. Then his dour expression shifts, transforming his face with that slanted, heartrending grin of his, dimples popping.

“Princess,” he acknowledges me with a slow head bow, his pale and dark eyes never leaving mine. His voice is rougher than usual.

“Jester,” I greet in return. “You look ill today. Everything all right?”

He huffs a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “I apologize for looking less than appealing to Your Highness.”

My mouth thins, and I pull my shoulders back, forcing him with a severe look to give me a proper answer.

Ren sighs. “Thank you for your concern, but I’m justcatching my breath. It’s—” He glances around the gallery at the bustling bodies. “It’s rather busy lately.”

I watch a small, tired smile frame his mouth. “Yes. I noticed you’ve been avoiding the bedlam.”

He tilts his head, his smile stretching deviously, making my stomach flutter. “You’ve been watching me, Sera?”

The insinuation flushes my skin with a rush of heat. Then I notice the hollows beneath his eyes. The faint tightness around his mouth. The scar through his eye looks paler today.

“Have you not been getting proper sleep?” I ask.

He looks away. “I sleep enough.”

“Liar.”

His eyes meet mine, another knowing smile twisting his mouth. “A practiced one. Comes with the costume.”

I glance back down the gallery, my thoughts churning. “Come with me,” I say.

I don’t give him the chance to argue as I start walking down the corridor at a fast pace. He pushes off the wall, following behind at a safe distance, and the corner of my mouth lifts.

The neglected wing is in the north of the palace. It used to be the dowager queen’s wing, Aldric’s mother’s, before she died. He had it sealed when he took the throne, and no one is permitted to go there.

I walk fast, my pulse quickening at the sound of his footfalls following behind me. As we reach the tapestry, I push it aside, ducking through into thedim staircase.

The moment the tapestry falls back into place, the world goes quiet.

The roar of the palace cuts off. The clatter of feet and voices—all of it muffled, fading into silence. The staircase smells of stone and dust. Our breathing is suddenly loud.

Ren exhales. I hear it as much as feel it. “What are we doing here?” he asks.

I continue on. “I thought you could use a reprieve.”

At the top of the stairs, I push open the heavy door, and the library opens before us like a held breath. Four walls of books. A single tall window admitting a column of pale light. A faded chaise. The smell of old leather and even older books.

Ren pauses in the doorway for a moment to take it all in.