my father and made my decision. This was not my family. It never would be.
“You’re wrong. You dismissed me the day you traded me for an unborn son.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
It wasn’t until wandering a wing of the castle that I came to a hall that felt familiar. I knew where I was and picked up my pace, turning left at the cherub statue and then right by a bust of the first king of Florin. I slowed and stopped outside of a door, resting my hand on the handle.
“It’s all right, Miss Rosalie,” Magda spoke up. “You can go in.”
“What will I find?” I asked.
“Answers.”
Swallowing, I turned the handle and stepped through the door right back to my childhood. It was a nursery fit for a princess. White lace curtains, now yellowed with age, hung above the windows. The four-poster bed was stripped clean of bedding and pillows, and years of dust covered the table and bookshelves, but nothing else had changed.
It was my room.
Crossing the bare floor, I sat upon my old bed and lay on the mattress to stare up at the ceiling. How could I have forgotten this place? The bed, though old, was three times the size of my bed in the cramped tower. There were stacks of children’s books on the floor and every available surface. Reaching for the closest one on the table near the headboard, I pulled it toward me and removed the bookmark. It was a tale about an evil fairy who kidnapped children and replaced them with changelings.
I swallowed. Even as a child I had wished to be taken away, or maybe that was every royal child. Thinking back, I couldn’t remember their faces, but I remembered the feelings of insignificance, the indifference and the lack of affection, as my parents had saved it all for Aspen.
A tear slid down my cheek and I wiped it away, grateful I didn’t grow up here, that for whatever the circumstances, I had grown up at Lady Eville’s tower. I may never understand her reasoning for keeping my past from me, or why in the world she would bargain for the life of a firstborn child. She was not one to give explanations but would rather we come to our own conclusions, although she did carry an intense hatred for the seven kingdoms, and that bias did get passed down. But from what I had learned in a short time from the two kingdoms I had now been in, her hatred was justified.
Mother had saved me. I knew that now, and I hoped that if I were ever put in the same situation, I would have the strength to do the same. This should have changed my opinion of my adoptive mother, but instead I understood her better.
I sat up, my dress covered with a layer of dust that I patted off, sending clouds into the air. I sneezed and a female voice said, “Bless you.” But I was alone. Magda had not followed me into the room, and the door was closed.
My heart began to beat in excitement as I called out, “Aura?”
“Over here!” she laughed, and I frantically began to search the room for a mirror. It was attached to the wall, and when I pulled the sheet from it, I could barely see her under the layer of dust. Using my dress, I wiped the glass and almost sobbed in relief to see her smiling back at me.
“Oh, I missed you!” I cried out.
“Yes, we’ve been trying to message you for days. Where have you been?”
“Really? Why did I not—come to think of it, there is a general lack of mirrors in the palace. This is the first room I’ve found one in.”
Aura’s brows furrowed when she saw the bonds on my wrist. “Who did that to you?” I didn’t have to answer. “No—your father? Grrrr! That makes me so angry. It’s a good thing I’m not there right now, or I would show that king of Floof what for. Oh, wait, you’re a princess? Of course you are. Ah, and you have a brother.”
“Careful, Aura,” I tried to soothe her, knowing what could happen when she lost her temper. She could literally bring the whole tower down around her. “I’m fine for now. Just don’t tell Mother!” I warned, scared of what she might do if she found out I was back at the kingdom of Florin. But more important, I wasn’t sure if I could trust her.
Aura frowned, her eyes