The days blurred together in a monotonous rhythm. Every morning brought the same parade—maids with breakfast, endless pampering, and wardrobe selections that felt more like armor than clothing.

  At least I had Naomi. We spent hours planning for the wedding night, our shared secret giving us something to hold onto. It was strange, really. As my maid, she’d been kept at arm’s length by title and circumstance. Now, as a free woman, she was the closest thing to a friend I had in this gilded prison.

  Today they’d poured me into another of Nel’s “gifts”—a studded, slim-fitting gown in deep ruby. But let’s be honest. Nel hadn’t really gifted me, just carelessly signed off on every piece of fabric in my closet, the only element of my importance.

  Today I wore this piece, another costume for another day of being decorative. That’s all I was here—a useless background character with no real power, no purpose beyond looking pretty and keeping quiet. At least the consummation scheme gave me something to focus on. And at least I don’t have to sleep with him. The thought alone made my skin crawl.

  As afternoon light painted the gardens gold, Naomi and I finished our daily tour. We kept our conversation light, aware of Fiora’s eyes and ears lurking in every shadow. Better to discuss the weather than risk our plans being discovered. We arrived at dinner early, our laughter echoing off marble walls as Naomi cracked another vampire joke.

  “I can’t believe you said that out loud,” I managed between gasps for air.

  “You know it’s true.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Anyhow, what’s on the menu today, breaded sardines? Or pickle fritter fish bites?” I fought back another wave of giggles.

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  “Oh, stop it! Will you? When did you become such a jokester?”

  “I’m just saying. Their food names and arrangements are rather… silly.”

  The aroma of tonight’s fancy clam dish wafted over, herbs and lemon mixing with pepper-crusted salmon. I had to admit, these Ustorian delicacies were growing on me. I’d even noticed my waistline shrinking from the lighter fare. Which isn’t a bad thing, actually. Though I’d never tell Fiora that.

  Later, tucked away in my bedroom, we talked about our new realities. Naomi understood my grief better than anyone—she’d left behind everything too. Her family, her home, traded for a castle full of vampires who saw her as less than nothing.

  The sun had barely set when Naomi yawned, sprawling across my pillows. “You know, I’ll probably sleep in here tonight.”

  “That’s fine with me. I enjoy your company.”

  She sat up, smiling broadly. “Not as much as I enjoy yours. I’m glad I’m not your maid anymore. The nicest you’ve ever been to me.”

  I smirked, about to respond when a heavy knock interrupted us.

  “Who could that be?” I said. Shock widened both our eyes. I padded to the door, peering out to find a stone-faced soldier in the dim corridor. “How can I help you?” The late hour made me wary.

  “The queen has requested your presence in the meeting chambers.”

  “What for?”

  “She will speak further with you on the matter.”

  It’s so like the queen to randomly summon me. But I knew this day would come again, just not when I’m on the verge of sleep.

  I glanced back at Naomi. “I’ll be back.”

  Fiora stood by a window in the meeting chamber, her silhouette stark against the night sky. She turned as I entered, fixing me with that familiar icy glare.

  “You called for me?” I hated how my voice trembled.

  “I did.” Her tone could have frozen flame. She glided across ancient floorboards until she loomed before me. “The normal vampires are concerned about the mixed bloods, certain that the curse will change them into Valmorin. There have been no confirmed cases of that happening, but still, we must take precautions.” What the hell are you telling me for? I dropped my gaze, mind racing. “I understand that you asserting your… power.” Her scoff made it clear exactly what she thought of my authority here. “Tomorrow you will use that defiant voice that longs to be heard so much to give out this order.”

  Her wrist snapped forward, scroll clutched like a weapon. My hand shook as I took it, unrolling its contents. The words hit me like a physical blow: All mixed bloods must vacate their homes immediately and will be escorted to Ghostun.