say about the hiding places in the palace? I know all of them.
“I owe you a favor, Ren,” Nuria tells me as I leave. “Don’t forget it.”
That night in my bed, I listen for the arrival of the guards outside my door. They’re coming from somewhere. A trapdoor. A hidden stairwell. I’m sure I never hear them walk the corridor.
In my dreams, I see Castian. He’s that boy in my memory about to kill Dez on a balcony one moment and the next he’s holding flowers in the dark, running from me.
I will find what you’re hiding, I promise.
I will uncover everything he’s locked away, and there will be nowhere safe for him to hide.
Chapter 19
The next day, I steal moments alone to touch the stone walls of Lady Nuria’s former chambers, searching for hidden doorways. I wonder if the prince made good on his offer to show them to her. I long to ask her, but it’s too great a risk. I look behind every painting, every rug, drapery, book. I push against the brick walls and wooden panels. I rummage under the bed. When, at the end of my search, all I end up with is dirty fingertips and a splinter, I lie down on the floor. I fish Dez’s coin from under the mattress and hold it for strength.
Castian wouldn’t have lied to Nuria. Not in that moment. There has to be something I’m missing.
“What are you doing?” Sula asks.
I scramble off the floor and smooth my deep blue skirts. “Nothing.”
“Looks like you were lying on the floor to me.”
One look at my grimace and the servant girl starts. She sets the food tray down and busies herself. Used to her glowering silence, I take my leave and she doesn’t question it.
I hunt for Leo, but he is called to Lady Nuria’s side to entertain her. After the last encounter with the ladies of court, I keep to the shadows. The more crowded the palace gets, the lonelier I feel. Desperation gnaws my insides raw because I am going in circles. I’m a wraith prowling the halls, admiring gilded paintings of over three hundred years’ worth of the Fajardo lineage. I notice there is no portrait of the king’s first queen, but Queen Penelope graces an entire wall. I glide my fingers behind each and every one of them, but none turn into a secret compartment or hidden room.
I linger in the sky bridge that leads to my apartments. Bursts of laughter come from the gardens and streets on either side of the bridge. A memory tugs at me, one of my own. If I close my eyes, I can recall running through the woods beside Dez and Sayida. The pair of them teaching me how to be swift and quiet all at once. But everything about me has always been loud, the sound of my heart, the weight in my tread, even the cry I always seem to be holding back.
A washed-out vision of Castian kissing the inside of Nuria’s wrist follows. I punch the tiled pillar to snap out of the memory and regret it instantly. One of the scabs on my knuckles cracks and bleeds. I stare at my injured hand. Come tomorrow I will have no choice but to make a Hollow.
Run, I tell myself. There is no justice. No prince. The king and queen are preoccupied with their sacred festival that celebrates the defeat of my goddess.
Soft words that hurt like a deep bruise reverberate through me. Stay for more.
I have to finish this. I have to.
I turn and run the rest of the way to my rooms. There’s one guard on duty, and he’s slumped on the floor. I crouch down to better look at his face.
Hector.
There are hundreds of Hectors in the kingdom. But the odds that the General Hector in Nuria’s memory is this same one seems plausible. He’d be about the right age. The lavanderas said he fought at Riomar. But how did he go from a general to a patrol guard?
He smells strongly of aguadulce. A black-gloved left hand rests over his lower abdomen. Like me, his other hand is free. But there’s something stiff about the way his fingers rest there.
Then his shoulders twitch and the muscles in his thigh spasm. He moans in his sleep, followed by a whimper. So many of the Whispers sleep like this, tormented by horrid memories of the past. Dez did.
“You’re dreaming,” I whisper. I grip the guard by the