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“How close will this bring us to the apothecary?” I ask.

“A few blocks away.” Zander puts his finger to his mouth for quiet. He listens for a moment, before reaching above his head to press on a block. A telltale click sounds and the wall moves out.

And the tiny thrill skates through my mind. I was made for this kind of world.

“Your childlike fascination with these things continues to amuse me,” he murmurs, obviously sensing my reaction.

“I was a thief in my former life, so sneaking in and out of places was sort of my thing.” It feels oddly liberating to admit that.

Zander shoots an incredulous look my way before we step into a cramped room full of dust-covered crates. “It’s a storage cellar,” he whispers. Moving for a wooden door, he pushes against it. And curses.

“Padlock?” Elisaf asks.

He nods. And then falters. “We will have to move quickly once we leave here, as soldiers will begin scouring the city, if they aren’t already. I will get you to the apothecary and then, if this Gesine is who you think she is, then that is where you and I must part ways.” In the glow of my lantern light, his hazel eyes carry a myriad of emotions I can’t discern. “I haven’t thought clearly since the day you marched into my life, before or after the attack. If I am to take back what is mine, I need all my wits about me.”

I swallow against the ball that swells in my throat. I’m not sure what is more startling—that I’ll be alone in this strange world, or that a man I’ve come to care for deeply is abandoning me at a time when I need him most.

But I’m used to being abandoned by those closest to me, and I’m not about to beg him to stay.

Pausing a moment to listen for passersby, he barrels through, splintering the wood. We step out into an alleyway. The lower streets are deserted, save for the odd figure that darts from one corner to the next. No royal guards sit on horses, no market revelers linger. Yet I feel eyes on us as we move along, silent and hidden within our cloaks.

None would guess that it is their king and the Ybarisan princess, fleeing in the night.

Up ahead, the apothecary is dark, its windows shuttered by thick curtains.

“She said tonight?” Zander stalls in the shadows.

“Yes.” My eyes scour the corners around us, every nerve ending on edge. Movement in an alley catches my attention. A figure in a black cloak. They shift into the cast of the lantern just long enough for me to catch the strands of strawberry-blond hair before shifting back. It’s Bexley. She knew I would be here. After what happened in the square, she can’t be here for my side of our deal. She’s either here to see me off, or to kill me.

The side of the curtain moves.

“There’s someone inside,” I whisper.

“Yes. I saw that.”

As one, we cross the street.

“I will keep an eye out.” Elisaf disappears into another shadow. There are so many to slip into in this world.

We’re four feet from the shop when a click sounds, and the door creaks open an inch.

Disquiet grips me.

Zander slips in first, his hand clutching the hilt of his sword. The surrounding lanterns flare, and I assume it has something to do with his affinity. I’m momentarily envious.

“Shut the door behind you,” a serene female voice says.

I do as instructed, throwing us into darkness.

“I sense the flame burning inside you, King of Islor. You are powerful for an Islorian.”

“As I’m sure you are, even with that collar around your neck, High Priestess,” he says, equally calm.

My eyes frantically search for a hint of what Zander sees.

A faint glow erupts in the room, a ball of light that floats in the air, swelling until it illuminates a woman in a charcoal-gray cloak, with long, inky-black hair and pale-green eyes, just as Kaders described her. A simple gold collar encloses her delicate neck.

“It is unnerving, the unique skills of your kind. It will take time to become accustomed to it, though I will say I am enjoying my newfound freedom in your land.” Her piercing gaze shifts from Zander to me. She bows deeply. “I am Caster Gesine, Your Highness. We knew each other once, but I see now that Wendeline was right, and I am no longer a familiar face. You are Romeria, but not the one who left Ybaris.”

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