have had dreams of her own. Infidelity among common marriages is bad enough. But she was said to have been unfaithful to the prince. That would have been tantamount to treason. How could she keep her lands and title then? What would be so valuable about their alliance that Castian, ruthless as he is, would have stood for watching her marry another man? Unless . . . Tresoros is known for their rich earth. Minerals and gems.
I think of the prince standing in the Forest of Lynxes. Dez stopped me from using my magics. Castian said it wouldn’t work on him. I didn’t think of it. So many Leonesse wear their holy wooden wards but they don’t truly understand our power. Maybe something discovered beneath Tresoros counteracts Moria powers, just as metals amplify them? Could the weapon have come from Tresoros and therefore the union with Puerto Leones had to be retained?
I lie in the quiet for a moment, and that’s when I realize—it’s quiet. Utter silence outside my door.
I sit up, my blood buzzing and alert. This may be the only chance I get.
I change into a pair of black riding trousers and a black tunic. After rummaging through a drawer, I find the hidden flower pin I wore the day I met King Fernando. I rip off the cloth petals, leaving behind only the sharp metal clip, and secure it into my waistband. Perhaps I’d dreamed of using its sharp steel tip to stab a prince. But it’ll pick a lock just as well.
As I move across the sky bridge leading back to Castian’s rooms, I feel like the Lady of Shadows herself, in her dress made of night and morning stars. Revelers cry their songs, and the precarious roll of wagon wheels over cobblestones masks my tread.
With Jacinta’s memory, I find the Bloodied Prince’s doors like true north. The room is unmanned, and my fingers remember the familiar tricks of searching the metal organs of the lock.
When the metal gives and I hear the right click, I hold my breath, look over my shoulder once, and pray the Lady of Shadows is on my side.
I heave open the heavy doors and slip inside the empty apartments. For a moment, I let it sink in that I’m inside the room where Castian lives while he’s at the palace. A queasy sensation brings a hot flash across my entire being, because from now until the end of my days I will never be able to think of Dez without thinking of Castian, too.
I let my eyes adjust to the darkness, then cut across the carpeted floor to the window. I part the curtains, letting in waking sky, a strip of pale blue along the horizon. I must hurry. Leo will be appearing at my door soon. He always comes to wake me when the morning bleeds red beneath the lip of the curtains.
There’s an oil lamp and matchsticks on the parlor table. My fingers, though steady while I was breaking in, are now betraying me, and it takes me three matches before I can light the damn thing.
I make my way through the blue parlor with its grand tapestries and plush couches, and hurry into his bedchambers. The walls are covered in deep blue velvet, containing waves of sheen and shadow that make them seem to undulate. I pull back the curtains and am startled by the way the light casts an aura on the walls and floor. It is as if the room was designed to give the inhabitant the feeling of being under the sea, of constant sway and motion.
It is a dream, and I hate myself for feeling at peace in here.
I go to the bookshelf filled with leather- and cloth-bound books. I’ve heard of hidden doors unlocked by pulling a lever disguised as a book. This bookcase is certainly big enough, so I pull nearly every book. Nothing.
I set the lamp on the large dresser in the adjoining closet where Jacinta gathered the prince’s marriage clothing. I rummage through the drawers, but there are only clothes and belts and sashes and caps and tassels.
“Where are you?” I whisper to the room, begging it to speak its secrets back.
I continue to a study with a large wooden desk littered with letters, still-rolled scrolls, pots of sepia ink, and a large conch shell, most common in Citadela Salinas. I make to grab it, but my senses fill with leather and salt, and I can picture Castian sitting