“She could have said something,” Drea repeated, as if we hadn’theard her the first time. She stood and marched out with a huff, the door slamming behind her.
Anna and I both flinched.
Anna cleared her throat. “I should have been the one to say something. But I didn’t know,” she murmured.
“I did,” I said. Even breathing had begun to grow difficult as the weight of guilt sat on my chest. I hated that I felt angry at Ella—at her situation, her stubbornness, and how everything had gone wrong. “I knew and I said nothing. If anyone’s to blame, it’s me.”
Anna leaned back against the headboard, her gaze returning once more to the wall.
We stayed like that for a few moments, our breaths quiet, the air heavy.
Anna finally slipped beneath her blankets and closed her eyes, and for a moment, the palace felt a little less lonely in Ella’s absence.
When her breaths steadied, I snuck out of the room. I walked down the halls, slowing at the sight of Mrs. Calloway’s open door, candlelight flooding the servants’ hallways.
I peered in. Drea sat on a chair, hunched over, while Mrs. Calloway rubbed her back. Mrs. Calloway’s eyes caught mine and her mouth twisted. Drea’s head jerked up. She narrowed her watery eyes at me. “Get out,” she snarled.
I hurried past. Footsteps sounded behind me, and when I looked back, Mrs. Calloway followed. My pace faltered.
She treaded closer, a letter in her outstretched hand. “For you,” she said. “The messenger said it concerns your niece. I’m sorry to hear what happened to little Asha. She seemed sweet when she was here. I saw the two of you running around the gardens.”
My heart pounded as I took the letter from her with tremblinghands. Mrs. Calloway returned to her office, shutting the door and enveloping the hall in darkness. I ran my finger over the wax seal, bearing my family’s wild crest.
I dashed up the stairs, finding the hallway’s torchlight, and tore open the letter, skimming Kelara’s lines for the words I was desperate to hear.
My shoulders sagged.
Asha had finally awoken and was back to her usual self, as if her fall had never occurred at all.
My breaths grew steadier as the news sank in.She was alright.
Of course I’d known she would get better—as much as I disliked Thomas’s personality, his magical gift was hard to deny. And yet I’d still worried that she might not wake, that something deeper might be wrong, that Thomas hadn’t taken enough time when examining her.
But she was okay. The world was put to right.
I could breathe again.
I tucked the letter into a pocket of my coat and returned back to my room, my thoughts heavy and whirling with the weight of the news. Falling into bed, I tried drifting into sleep, my mind reeling with mistakes from Asha’s fall to Ella’s firing.
All of it, my fault.
CHAPTER NINE
I tilted the final wooden figurine toward the ogre, his lance in the air as if ready for battle.
Over the years, Prince Stephen’s wooden collection of miniature knights, horses, and mages had grown. Each was hand-carved and painted in incredible detail, from clenched hands to taut reins to the unique family crests on each shield. Ever since I was assigned to the younger prince’s room, I had enjoyed setting them into little scenes to surprise him when I had the time. And although the prince had never spoken a word to me, he would always smile at me when we passed in the hallway, despite the expectation that I remained unseen.
And while my distaste for the royals’ snobbery continued, I made an exception for Prince Stephen, whose anxious tendencies had worsened over the years, leaving him an outcast in his own court.
If such a little act on my behalf could bring him joy, then I would gladly do it.
I crossed to Prince Leon’s bedroom. Soon, Prince Stephen would gain his own chambers and my workload would strain even more. I was already struggling to keep up with my duties after Ella’sdisappearance.
I dusted a few instruments, stripped his bedding to take to the scullery, and stirred the coals in his fireplace. The youngest prince always had his music sheets arranged and his clothing folded by the time I reached his room.
As I worked, my mind wandered once more to Ella’s final words to me, the finality with which she had ended our friendship. All I was left with was an empty cot beside mine and the grating voices of Anna and Drea.
It was one of the worst fates I could imagine.
