*Kieran* “Wh-what?” my father stammars as he stares at me standing in front of his desk, holding Nessa’s hand in mine. “Nessa is your… mate?” His face is ashen, his jaw slack, and in his eyes I see the disdain I feel in my heart–along with a great deal of uncertainty. I, too, know how that feels.
“Well….” Mother has one finger under her bottom lip, twisting it there. I know that look, but whatever evil thought has just slipped into her mind, there’s no way my father will let her say it aloud. He stops her with a deep growl in the back of his throat, and she drops it. For now. “You must be
*Blanca* I awake sometime in the middle of the night. When I first got back to my room, I took a long shower and scrubbed my flesh raw. Then, I got dressed in as many layers as I could and fell into bed, exhausted. My mind had gone crazy, even in my dreams, trying to sort out everything that had ha
As soon as I reach for the doorknob, the one on the right hops up. “Hey! You can’t go down there.” “Sure I can,” I tell him. “I’m the princess. I can do whatever I want.” “No, you can’t.” The one on the left is up now, too. “We have it on strict authority from the king himself not to let you down
*Kieran* The library smells like binding glue and old paper. I have no idea why anyone would ever want to spend more than a few moments here. When I was younger, our governess used to herd all of us in here–Anwen, Candace, Finn, Ingrid, and me. We’d sit next to her and listen to her read from story
“None of your damn business.” I slide the book back onto the shelf, knowing it’s not going to help me. Nothing can. I even went to speak to my father’s magician about the Haze earlier today, and he backed up what my father had to say. Of course, Wordsworth is probably the worst magician in the unive
*Blanca* “And if you leave this room without my permission one more time,” Mother says as she stands next to her henchman, Ardesia, “you can rest assured I will break your legs so that you cannot leave again.” The lash hits my upper thighs, my back, my bottom as I stare at the wall above my bed, t
She holds up the key. “Mother isn’t very good at keeping hold of this.” I almost laugh, but then, I have no idea why she’s here. It can’t be for anything good. I don’t ask. Instead, I take a few hesitant steps toward her. Candace is eighteen years old, three years younger than me. Unlike me, she l