can say any more.
I’m quick to follow. I don’t wish to discuss the soul-bond between Ailesse and Casimir either. Bastien and I head through the rain for the arched passageway. We’ve committed to memory the map of Beau Palais he pieced together after conversing with a retired castle servant. “After three cups of tavern ale, the man was an open book,” Bastien told me.
We shake off the rain once we’re inside the castle. We’re standing in a stone foyer that intercepts a long hallway running left and right. Straight ahead is a great room. Servants mill about setting gold plates and goblets on a few gathered tables. Garlands of vibrant late-summer flowers twirl around towering columns that support a vaulted ceiling. Blue banners embroidered with the gold sun-symbol of Dovré—an homage to the sun god, Belin—hang alongside green banners with the tree symbol of the earth goddess, Gaëlle. I’m told La Liaison is held to invoke their joint blessing on the upcoming harvest.
Bastien and I share a quick glance and nod before we part ways. He heads left, and I head right. His direction leads toward the dungeons entrance, and mine accesses the staircase to the third level. Ailesse could also be locked up in one of the royal apartments there.
I’ve only taken a few steps when a handsome boy with strawberry hair walks around a column in the great room, fifteen feet away. My body goes rigid, my blood cold—then scorching hot.
Prince Casimir.
He’s wearing a burgundy doublet over a loose linen shirt and fitted breeches. A simple crown made from a thin band of gold wraps across the middle of his forehead.
He hasn’t laid eyes on me yet, but I still can’t force myself to move.
“Can you add more wildflowers?” Casimir asks a female servant while surveying the garland draped around the column. “Ailesse is fond of them.”
“Of course, Your Highness.”
“I want everything perfect for when she meets my father tonight.”
My mind snags on his words. Flowers for Ailesse? A meeting with the king? I glance at Bastien. He’s taken cover behind a potted tree at the corner of the great room and adjoining hallway. From his deeply furrowed brow, he’s just as confused as I am. How can Ailesse attend a dinner with Casimir’s father? Isn’t she locked away?
“I understand, Your Highness.” The servant bows, and Casimir starts to turn in my direction. I jerk around, shuffle to the nearest table, and fuss with a place setting. I itch to hold the bone knife. If I could stab him right now, I would. But that would kill Ailesse. Their lives are woven together. She must be the one to wield the ritual blade and kill her amouré.
The prince’s footsteps slowly clip toward me. My pulse pounds faster. I lower my head. Elara, don’t let him recognize me.
“Pardon me, but are you new here?”
I stiffen, keeping my back to him. “Yes,” I squeak.
“What is your name?”
I could run. With my nighthawk speed, I could make it to the third level before Casimir had a chance to catch me. If only I knew which room Ailesse was in. By the time I find her, he will have the whole castle on alert. “Ginette,” I murmur, feigning to be shy.
“Ginette, I am your prince and future king.” Casimir’s voice is warm and carries the charm that made me lightheaded when we first met. “You need not be afraid of me. In this castle, I treat my servants with regard.”
A scoff rips out of my throat. “And how do you treat your prisoners?” My subterfuge is pointless. Whether I run or confront him now, he’s going to discover me. “You can’t win Ailesse with flowers and gold and false honor. She will always see you as her abductor.”
My jackal hearing catches his soft intake of breath. “Sabine?” he asks.
I lift my chin and turn to face him. Casimir gazes back at me with widened stone-blue eyes. I fight to keep the heat in my blazing stare. His restrained demeanor carries wisdom, depth, and strength. It makes it hard to remember he’s an entitled snake.
“Where are you keeping Ailesse?” I demand. I pull out my hidden necklace and let my grace-bones dangle, exposed over the bodice of my dress. Two guards at the edge of the room take a step forward, but Casimir holds up a hand to stall them.
“Ailesse isn’t my prisoner. I invited her to stay with me, and she agreed.”
Lies. Ailesse would never consent to that. “Then tell her I’d