The silence Amelia left in the empty room was a physical weight, pressing in on me. I peeled off the thin cotton of my nightgown and slipped into a long, soft white dress—a ghost of what I once was. A few frantic strokes of a brush were all I could manage, a futile attempt to tame the wildness in my hair. When I faced the mirror, my own eyes startled me. They seemed a brighter, more desperate blue today, a stark contrast to the bruised, sleepless shadows beneath them. It would have to do. I was a princess in name only.

My boots were a silent comfort, a touch of practicality in a world of suffocating ceremony. I slid them on before knocking on the connecting door.

The handle turned, and the doorway was filled by Cassius. He loomed over me, his height casting me in shadow. “Is everything alright?” he asked, his brow furrowed with a concern that felt both foreign and dangerous.

“Everything is fine,” I said, lifting my chin to meet his intense, ice-blue eyes. “We all have our burdens to carry.”

The air between us grew thick with unspoken questions. I took a deliberate step back, severing the connection that had sparked between us. “We should head to the library.”

“Alright,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that seemed to come from miles away.

He followed me through the corridors, his footfalls a soft echo of my own. His gaze remained fixed on the marble floor, and a knot of pure dread tightened in my stomach. The walk was agonizingly long, every corner a potential ambush. I just hoped we wouldn’t see anyone—anyone who might say the wrong thing. I had no idea how Cassius would react.

My relief shattered as a shadow fell across our path. I had hoped too soon.

Dolion rounded the far corner, wearing a look of such smug satisfaction it made my skin crawl. My first instinct was to yank Cassius back, to pull him into an alcove and render us invisible, but it was too late. Dolion’s predatory eyes had already locked onto mine.

“Hello, cousin,” he sneered, the words slithering from his lips like poison. “Enjoy your time in the cells?” A cruel half-smile played on his lips, a taunt daring me to break.

When I gave him only silence, he let out a soft chuckle. “Ah, but where are my manners? I must greet you properly. Good morning, Crown Princess.” He let the title hang in the air, a beautiful, rotting thing, before letting it drop. “Oh, whoops. I forgot. You aren’t one anymore, are you? Don’t you worry, though. I won’t share your little secret.” He leaned in, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. “…Yet.”

A presence solidified at my side. Cassius. His body was rigid, a statue carved from ice and fury. His gaze was glacial, fixed on Dolion. I shot him a warning look, a silent, desperate plea, shaking my head almost imperceptibly. It was no use. I saw his hand clench into a white-knuckled fist.

Cutting through the tension, I forced a smile so warm it felt like it could start a fire. “Good morning, cousin,” I said, my voice smooth as polished stone. “Thank you for your kindness.”

The smugness on Dolion’s face faltered, confused by my refusal to play his game. His gaze slid from me to Cassius, and his jaw went slack. “An… an elf? I thought they were myths.” His voice cracked, pitching higher. “Why is it with you?”

I owed him nothing. “We have somewhere to be, Dolion. Please step aside.”

He planted his feet, a human wall in the corridor. It was clear this was far from over. I fought to keep my expression placid, a mask of gentle courtesy. I had watched him play his games my entire life; it was time to prove I was a better player.

Before I could speak, Cassius’s voice cut through the air, low and resonant. “I am Princess Thalia’s guard, appointed to her service since the crown has left her without one.”

Dolion let out a short, barking laugh. “A guard? What could she possibly need a guard for?” Then, in an instant, his entire persona melted. His features crumpled into a mask of pathetic hurt, his eyes welling with false tears. “Cousin,” he whispered, his voice trembling, “I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to get in your way. I just don’t understand what I’ve done to make you dislike me so.”

A performance. My eyes darted down the hall. Of course. Two maids, their heads bent together in a storm of whispers, were watching the entire scene unfold. He was painting me as the villain.

Fine.

I mirrored his wounded expression, letting my own shoulders slump. “Dolion, whatever do you mean?” The lie tasted like ash in my mouth, but I let the words hang in the air, sweet and convincing. “You are my only family here. You know I care for you deeply.” As if on cue, the two maids, having witnessed our tender reconciliation, scurried away.

The second they were gone, the sorrow evaporated from Dolion’s face. He crossed his arms, his eyes cold as chips of stone. “I’ll see you around, Princess.” He didn’t bother to use my name, deliberately brushing his shoulder against mine as he stalked away.

Only when his footsteps faded did I allow myself to exhale, the breath escaping me in a shudder.

Cassius closed the distance between us, his voice a low whisper. “Is everyone in this palace like him?”

“Unfortunately,” I said, a soft, bitter laugh escaping my lips. “They all play their parts. In their eyes, I am useless. And honestly, that’s the safest thing for me to be.”

He gave me a deeply confused look, but after a moment, he just nodded slowly. “Okay.”

We walked the rest of the way in a charged silence. When we reached a grand set of double doors, I pushed them open. They groaned in protest, revealing the sanctuary within. The scent of aged paper, leather, and time washed over me—a smell more comforting than any perfume.

This was my escape. A genuine sense of peace, laced with the thrill of discovery, settled over me for the first time all day. Towering shelves, burdened with the weight of countless books, stretched so high they seemed to scrape the vaulted ceiling.

“I’ve read half the books in this room,” I murmured, more to myself than to him. “If the answer is anywhere, it’s in here. Best of all, no one ever comes to the library.”

A sudden, cold spike of practicality stopped me. Can he even read our language?

I pulled a heavy, leather-bound book from the shelf and presented it to him. “Cassius, can you read this?”

He leaned in, his hair, dark as a moonless night, brushing his shoulder as he read the lettering on the spine. “Yes. The Reign of King Aeronet.”

A knot of tension I hadn’t realized I was holding eased in my shoulders. I slid the book back into its place. “Good. We’re looking for anything related to Pillard Forest. The section should be this way.”

I led him down a long, dim aisle. “Here,” I said, stopping before a towering wall of books. “I’ll take this shelf if you check the one to the right.”

I set to work, my finger tracing the spines, the methodical process a balm to my frayed nerves. I was halfway down the shelf when Cassius’s voice cut through the hallowed quiet. “I found one. A Guide to Pillard Forest.”

My head snapped up. “Perfect. Let’s see if there are others.”

We finished the section, but our initial luck didn’t hold. “I suppose that’s the only one,” I said, my voice tinged with disappointment. “Still, it’s better than nothing.”

Our search of the ancient legends section yielded only a single, slim volume—a collection of fables about elves, more myth than fact. It was useless.

“Any other ideas?” Cassius asked, the exhaustion in his voice mirroring the slump of his shoulders.

A slow smile crept onto my face. “I have one more.”

Without waiting for a response, I turned and headed deeper into the library’s labyrinthine depths, his footsteps a steady presence behind me. “There’s another library,” I said over my shoulder. “One that’s off-limits.”

I stopped at a seemingly random bookcase. My fingers slid across the spines with practiced ease, counting. Third shelf from the bottom… fifth book in. I carefully removed that book and the two flanking it. Reaching into the dark void, my fingers found what they were searching for: a small, cool piece of stone embedded in the wood. I pressed it firmly.

For a moment, nothing. Then, a low groan of stone on stone vibrated through the floor. The entire bookcase began to slide inward, releasing a puff of ancient dust that danced in the dim light, revealing a dark, narrow passageway and the promise of secrets yet to be discovered.