A yellow and pink floral pattern spattered the walls of the Flower Room. Golden streaks of sunlight poured in from a large window on the left. There was a canopy bed pushed against the farthest wall. Its long, wooden pillars brushed the ceiling from the corners of the bed frame. White curtains draped over the frame, leaving a shadowy smear of the occupant lying on the bed.

"Isla," I said in a whisper.

Nothing…

I pushed the doors closed and took a slow, wide path to the right side of the bed.

Rows of dolls leaned against the far wall. The wooden figures were made up to look like princesses. Most wore white dresses like their living counterparts, and the back of my neck prickled as their dead, soulless eyes watched me approach.

"Isla!" I said, more panic in my voice.

Nothing…

I crept closer to the bed. One hand on the frilled curtains, the other wrapped around the hilt of my dagger in a reverse grip.

I pulled the curtains open.

"Is-"

My breath caught.

Isla lay unconscious on the bed, her petite body on top of the pristine ivory sheets. Someone replaced her baby blue dress with one made of plain, white silk. Her boots were missing, leaving her bare feet sticking out of the bottom of the shift.

I reached to check her pulse and recoiled as my fingers brushed the scab on her throat.

I did that…

Instead, I waited for her chest to rise and fall. After a moment, I breathed out a long sigh of relief.

She was alive.

Now, I had to keep her that way.

"Isla!"

I shook her shoulders; her head rolled against the feather pillow. She was alive but dead to the world. I patted her cheek and lifted her eyelids. She mumbled something under her breath.

We didn't have time for this.

I needed to wake her up. Escaping the mansion would be challenging enough without carrying dead weight.

Wait a minute...

I reached into the folds of my belt sash and grabbed the narrow end of the golden sceptre. The anxiety gnawing at the back of my mind melted away, and my eyes watered as the floral print on the walls became brighter.

This better work…

I turned over one of Isla's hands and dropped the sceptre into her waiting palm.

Nothing…

Maybe-

Isla gasped. Her eyes snapped open. Her head jerked off the pillow.

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"Isla?"

Isla's eyes darted to random spots around the room. She spasmed and fell back onto the pillow, taking quick shuddering breaths. After a moment, her breathing slowed. The muscles bunching in her neck relaxed, and her free hand moved to her lower stomach.

"Jacob… Where are we?"

Her voice was barely a whisper.

"Kateen's estate. She kidnapped you."

Isla grimaced, her eyes wet with unshed tears.

"A-Are you OK?" I asked.

"Yeah," she whispered. "Yeah… Can you help me up?"

"Of course."

I took her free hand and helped her sit up, sliding her to the edge of the bed. A bloody, red smear trailed behind her, staining the bed sheets.

Spirits below…

"Isla…"

She stared at her bare feet, her mind somewhere far away. I knew that look. I'd mastered it.

"Where are my boots?" She asked, no emotion in her voice.

"I'm sorry. I should have been there. We shouldn't have left you alone."

Her face twitched and then crumpled, tears spilling down her cheeks and dribbling off her chin. She leaned into me, crying into my shoulder. I held her close, resting my ear on her head.

"Where are my boots? Where are my boots, Jacob?!"

My stomach sank.

I was too late. I failed her like I failed everyone else.

"Isla, let's get out of here—back to Castille and Dugan, where it's safe. OK?"

I strained to keep the cheer in my voice—the tears out of my eyes.

"Can you walk?"

"I don't know."

"C'mon, let's go home."

I picked her up in my arms and walked to the doors. The next moment, they burst open.

Mahogany wood cracked against the floral walls as Kateen stomped into the room with Clarice and three guards on her heels. Her blonde hair was in an updo, held in place by a net of pearls. She wore a white, sleeveless dress that looked expensive enough to feed a family of four for five years.

"I knew it!" She said, her face twisted into a sneer.

She stopped a few feet into the room, crossing her arms and making the fat around her triceps jiggle.

"How did he get in here? The grounds were to be secured for the feast."

A dark-skinned man in a beige duster stepped forward. He put his hat in his hands, revealing a shiny, bald pate.

"I-I don't know, ma'am. He's a squirrely one."

"Yes, he is a pest. But now the rat is trapped."

Kateen's two other guards spread out in the room, levelling their hand crossbows in our direction. I stepped back, my heel knocking against the foot of the bed.

Where was Shay? He was supposed to take care of her.

I glanced from Kateen to her guards to Isla, and a wave of panic washed over me.

I needed to buy time. My hands were full, and Isla was in no condition to fight.

"You can't shoot me without shooting Isla," I said. "Lower the crossbows, and I'll put her down."

Clarice walked up to Kateen's side; her lips curled in a smile that didn't meet her dead eyes.

"Why should we care? Lady Kateen has no use for whores."

Kateen recoiled and turned to her adopted daughter.

"What?!"

"She's a whore."

"No, she isn't. She's a virgin. I checked personally."

Clarice turned to me and grinned.

"Check again."

Isla tensed in my arms.

Oh… Oh, no…

I wanted to throw up. I wanted to charge across the room and carve a fresh smile into Clarice's throat. Instead, I stood there. Stunned.

Kateen let out a frustrated sigh.

"My daughter. You'd do anything to stay my favourite."

"I-"

Kateen grabbed Clarice's face. Her fingertips pressed into her cheeks, making her lips pucker.

"I love that about you, but this..."

Kateen shook her head, tut-tutting the blonde girl.

"I've spent years searching for the perfect heir, and when one finally falls into my lap, you ruin her!"

Kateen huffed.

"It's my fault. I've been spoiling you—letting you have playtime with one too many vagrant. But that ends today. Anissa will be the new favourite, and Miguel here will beat you after we're done."

Clarice tried to speak. Her words came out as a mumble through Kateen's iron grip over her mouth.

"Don't worry, daughter. He won't bruise your skin. Now, nod your head and let me know that you understand."

Clarice bobbed her head up and down.

"That's my girl."

The lead guard, Miguel, cleared his throat.

"Um, ma'am. What do you want to do with them?"

Kateen let go of Clarice and turned to us.

"Kill them both. The girl is damaged goods, and he's an elf."

The lead guard nodded as if those were normal reasons to kill someone.

"You heard Lady Kateen. Fire!"

With two hand crossbows aimed in my direction, I did the last thing anyone expected, including myself.

I poured will into my jacket, and the world spun.

With five people staring at me, the jacket's enchantment consumed an incredible amount of will.

My body went limp. My knees slammed on the floor, followed a moment later by Isla.

Crossbow bolts went wide, whistling through the air as everything faded to black.

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