Page 95

Hopefully Lux won’t mind me using some.

Lifting up the first sheet, I pause. The stack is oddly lumpy, like it’s leaning on something.

I know I shouldn’t snoop, but I can’t help myself. Picking up the stack, I peer underneath, only for my heart to burst from my chest.

It’s letters! But not just any letters. I recognise that stationery!

Dumping the parchment onto the desk, I snatch up the first cream envelope. It’s already been opened, along with what looks to be at least ten more beneath it. Why was Lux hiding letters from my family? Could they be from my sisters?

I slide the paper out from the envelope, my eyes skimming over the text.

Prince Lux.

I understand your anger, your frustration. What I did to your mother was wrong. I never should have brought more shame to your family in the way that I did.

My brow lowers. I glance at the bottom of the letter to see it’s from Father. But what is he talking about? Did he know Lux’s mother before she died? Clutching the paper, I keep reading.

Please understand that I adored your mother and that I never intended for harm to come to her. Had I known about the pregnancy, I would’ve found her the best healer for the birth. She would’ve delivered our precious baby healthily. I never would’ve let your mother die so young.

My heartbeat roars in my ears. ‘Our baby’?

When I heard about her death I was devastated, and when little Fern was delivered to us in that tiny scrap of cloth, I did the best that I could for her, raising her with the kindness that your mother would’ve given her, just like I did for all my daughters.

Fern? My mouth turns dry as suddenly I feel very, very ill.

That being said, Prince Lux, I beg of you, please do not punish my daughters for my crimes. My girls are innocent in all this. They do not know about the circumstances of their births. These girls are the purest thing to come from my wicked world. Do not hurt them. Please bring them home⁠—

I suck in a breath, dropping the paper. I can’t read any more of this. With shaking hands, I reach for the next opened envelope, only to find another letter filled with desperate pleading from Father, begging Lux to bring me home. When I read the next one, it’s just more of the same. And again for the next. And again, and again, until I shove the letters back into the drawer and slam it shut.

Clutching the desk, I stand up on wobbly legs. I need to calm myself down, but I can’t think straight.

Fern and Lux share a mother. Fern is Lux’s sister.

But she’s my sister too…

Nausea rolls over me. Does that mean Lux and I are related? No. Of course not. Lux and Fern have different fathers, and all of my sisters have different mothers. Or at least that’s what Father claims.

Fern has always looked different, though. Her eyes a little sharper than ours, her cheekbones more pronounced. Lux said that his mother was a faerie. Does that make Fern part faerie too?

After ripping off my nightgown, I throw on the most casual clothes I can find and shove my feet into a pair of boots. With how much my fingers are shaking, it’s almost impossible to do up my laces, but somehow I manage.

Father was pleading for Lux not to hurt me. He begged Lux to spare me. This whole time, I’ve been playing princess in a faraway castle while my family thinks I’m being tortured.

If Lux knows that I know, will he stop playing pretend with me?

Damn these princes.

I give one last kiss to Maxine and sprint out of the door before I can stay long enough to find out.

The manor feels so much colder today. Outside, the once-little snowflakes have turned to a flurry, whipping at the window like they’re trying to get in.

I silently curse myself for not grabbing a cloak before I left. At least the journey home isn’t far. It only took a few hours by carriage. If I manage to steal a fast horse, I could be home by noon.

First, I need to figure out where Lux keeps his horses.

Taking the servants’ staircase, I tuck close against the wall. Only to jump out of my skin when a scruffy man slams into me.

I stumble backwards, screaming. No. It’s not a man. It’s a woman… I think? Filthy rags cover her skinny body. She barely has any hair or eyebrows, and her brown skin is scarred like she’s run through a fire or been burnt alive⁠—