Inesa folded the last dress and tucked it away in the dresser. When she bent to pick up the laundry basket, Sterling’s bag caught her eye. After the King’s men had taken Sterling and her brother away, Inesa had been holding on to their things in hope that they might one day come back and want them.

  She set the basket down again and picked up the leather satchel. Before today, she had never thought to open it and see what was inside. It was rude to go through others things, but did they really belong to Sterling any more if she had left them behind?

  Inesa bit her lip as she studied the bag. It was heavy. Heavier than it should have been if it only contained clothes.

  She set the bag on her desk and undid the ties holding it shut. Her hands paused over the opening. This was her last chance to change her mind. She wouldn’t like it very much if someone went through her belongings, but it wasn’t like Sterling would ever know she’d taken a peek.

  Mind made up, Inesa slipped one hand inside. The first thing she touched was fabric—clothes like she had expected. She wiggled her hand in further, shifting aside the layers of fabric until she landed on something else. Inesa’s fingers tightened around it and she pulled it from the bag.

  A book!

  Books were rare. They belonged to those with money or were passed down through families. Her own family owned two volumes that described their history, but they were not of this quality. A book like this, with its leather-bound cover, belonged in a king’s library.

  Had Sterling perhaps stolen it from the King? Inesa couldn’t imagine how else she might have gotten her hands on this.

  She lifted the cover and carefully turned the first pages. The paper was buttery soft beneath her fingers, unlike the rough texture of the pages in their own family volumes. The words were printed in neat rows across the page, clear and easy to read. Inesa stopped to look at one of the illuminations. It featured two dragons with their tails entwined. One red. One blue.

  This must be a storybook. The kind the king would have burned.

  Inesa pulled out the chair from her desk and sat down to read.

  That was where her father found her some time later, her nose stuck in the book. She’d read story after story about dragons, elves, faeries, and all manner of other magical creatures. Each one was more fascinating than the last. It was nothing like their family history books that boasted of farming feats and how many animals each person had owned.

  This book was magical.

  “What have you got there?” her father asked from the doorway.

  Inesa jumped guiltily, quickly marking her place with her finger and closing the book. “Oh, nothing important.”

  “Nothing important is what has been keeping you busy all day?” he teased.

  “It has not—”

  Her father pointed to the window where the color of light had shifted to the warm gold of late evening.

  Oh gods. She really had spent the entirety of her day reading.

  “So what is it that had you so distracted?” Her father wasn’t angry with her—he never was really—but she still hesitated to tell him.

  “It’s only a book of stories, Papa.”

  “Stories? About what?”

  Inesa told him. There was no sense in lying when he could look and see for himself. “Do you think it’s real?” she asked when she’d finished explaining all that she had read. She looked up to find he was no longer smiling.

  “I wouldn’t doubt it,” he said slowly. “You spoke with our visitors. There was something different about them. That was for certain.” He paused and stared out her window for a long moment.

  She’d thought the conversation at an end and was about to excuse herself when Papa said, “Anyway, you shouldn’t have that book. The King could have you arrested for it. Where did you get it?”

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  “It was in Sterling’s things,” she told him. “Have you heard anything about her? Is she all right?”

  He shook his head. “Not a word, which means it is likely she still lives. If Berenger had her executed, he would have made a spectacle of it.”

  “No news is good news,” Inesa said quietly.

  “Let’s hope we never hear another word about her or her brother again. I’m going to go check on dinner. It would be best if you burned those things. All of them. You never know when the king will send someone snooping, and we can’t give him a reason to take you.”

  “Of course, Papa.”

  He tapped the doorframe and left.

  Once he was gone, Inesa tucked the book back into the satchel and re-tied the fastenings. Instead of carrying the bag over to the fireplace, as Papa had told her to do, Inesa pulled up the loose floorboard near her bed and placed it inside.

  Wisteria swung her legs back and forth as she stared at Seraiah’s unmoving figure on the bed. She’d offered to keep watch over her to allow Prince Kaimana to get some rest. If they’d let him, he’d likely have tried staying awake at Seraiah’s bedside for all the days she was lost to her visions.

  He’d been reluctant at first, but Wisteria had presented her case as logically as possible. Kai couldn’t possibly protect Seraiah from any threats if he was not well-rested. Better to let others help him shoulder the burden so that if, gods-forbid, something were to happen, they might be ready.

  Normally, she never would have dared say such a thing to him, but last night’s success had made her brave. She’d gotten information from a faery. Yes, technically Virelai had been there to help, but she knew she would have been able to do it on her own.

  She almost told Prince Kaimana of what they’d learned before she remembered the promise Virelai had made her make. The two of them had shared breakfast, and when she’d asked about what Prince Kaimana thought of their idea—Virelai’s idea, really—Virelai had informed her that he hadn’t wanted to listen.

  After much prodding on Wisteria’s part, she’d finally coaxed the story of what had happened from Virelai. She hadn’t wanted to believe that Prince Kaimana would be so rude, but then he must be worried about Seraiah and his sister and Nyrene. It would be a lot for anyone.

  “Maybe,” Virelai had said, “but it would not be surprising if he thought of me the way everyone else does. I can’t say I’ve done anything to change the way anyone thinks of me, and I’ve used everyone’s fear of my father to my advantage. They are right. I’m my father’s daughter. I am what he made me.”

  Wisteria had to admit she’d been guilty of thinking the same, but the more time she’d spent with the pretty princess, the more she realized Virelai wasn’t like the mask she showed everyone. She’d adapted to her environment in order to survive—as they each did.

  “What about your mother?” Wisteria asked.

  “What about her?” Virelai’s tone was flat in a way that Wisteria recognized as her hiding her true emotions.

  “What was she like?”

  “She’s dead.”

  Wisteria knew Gavaran had forbidden anyone from speaking of his late wife, Oriana, but the servants still whispered among themselves. She had once heard that Oriana had died of a horrible illness. It was an illness so feared that as soon as she’d shown signs of it, she’d been banished to one of the many sea caves to live out whatever days remained to her on her own. Wisteria had only been a baby at the time, which meant Virelai had been a young child. She couldn’t imagine what that must have been like for her if the rumors were true. It was no wonder she didn’t want to speak of her.

  “So you didn’t tell anyone of what we learned?” she asked, moving the conversation back to their original subject. She’d still like to ask after Virelai’s mother, but it would need to wait for another time.

  “Only Ren.”

  “Oh?” Wisteria tried not to look eager, but something was definitely brewing between the two of them.

  “We ran into each other in the hallway.” Virelai put down her spoon and pushed her bowl away.

  “And what did he say?”

  “Not much. When I told him what the faery had said, he came to the same conclusion I did. He excused himself after that because the hour was late and now here we are.”

  “So you two will go to see the dragons together, then?”

  “I just said we did not discuss it. As of now, no one is going anywhere.”

  “But you will, and then the dragons will tell you how we can save everyone and get back home.”

  “It might be better to never return there.”

  “I don’t believe you. I’ll tell Kai about the dragons myself when I pay him a visit. Then he will send you to them.”

  Virelai’s eyes flashed. “You will not. He had his chance. He can know when I deem it necessary.”

  “But—”

  “Do whatever you like. Visit him or whatever it is you want to do, but promise me, you will not say anything.”

  “Fine, fine. I promise,” Wisteria had said.

  Now here she was, sitting at Seraiah’s bedside, and she hadn’t breathed a word of it, not even to the sleeping Seraiah. Although, she’d been tempted to after who knows how long of sitting here in silence.

  “I’d like to go visit dragons,” she whispered. “It must be more exciting than this.”

  But no. She should not go. Let Virelai and Ren take care of it. She’d be much more useful here, helping Prince Kaimana watch over Seraiah as she worked through her visions. Then, when she was not needed at Seraiah’s bedside, she could be out in the faery court, spying on them and learning all their secrets. As much as she would have loved to meet the dragons, it was better to be where she was needed.

  Seraiah’s finger twitched, and Wisteria leaned forward eagerly. Maybe she was waking up early. Then she could be the first to learn what Seraiah had seen.

  Moments ticked by and though Wisteria continued to watch, there were no more movements.

  She sat back with a sigh. This was going to be a long and boring day. Might as well get started thinking of all the ways she could get information out of someone.