The phantom countess stood in the center of the ballroom, and beside her was a man, tall and trim with thick dark hair. He reminded me of Phelan, and I knew this was her brother, the Duke of Seren. The magician who had cursed this court and the new moon, whose bones now gleamed beneath his bed.

The phantom countess startled to see him. “What are you doing here, Isidore?”

“You are not pleased to see me, sister? Not even in dreams?”

She was quiet, but I saw how she traced her belt, seeking the hilt of her dagger.

Isidore noticed and smiled, fearless of her. “You cannot kill me in this realm.”

“I was not seeking to.”

“Then what is this blood on your hands?” he asked.

The countess glanced down to see she had smeared blood on her dress. She held up her hands, and they trembled as blood dripped from her fingers and gathered on the floor, inch deep.

“Shall we see all the people you have killed, and those you hope to end?” drawled Isidore, and with a sweep of his hand, more people appeared in the ballroom.

There were ten victims in total, counting the Duke of Seren, and I didn’t recognize any of them, but the air grew tense when they looked at the countess, the woman who had set their deaths in motion. I saw a flash of red hair, long and loose and wild, as a girl walked across the ballroom through the blood.

I felt a stitch in my side when I saw her face.

It was me.

Clem.

And I didn’t know why I was in the countess’s dream. Not until I stood beside the Duke of Seren and the truth sank into me like a blade.

The countess planned to kill me.

I glanced around the nightmare, seeking Phelan. I couldn’t locate him among the fantastical gleam of our surroundings, but I longed more than anything to behold his face in that moment. To see if he had known of his mother’s plans.

Whatever else the dream had in store was altered, because Lennox stepped forward to walk among the victims, his rapier drawn and his hand up, ready to cast. He should have been more patient, I thought with gritted teeth. Now he had interrupted the nightmare, and it would run its own reactive course. I would never know how the countess’s dream truly ended, if she succeeded in killing me.

But perhaps it didn’t matter. Lennox was focused on Clem; he wove his way through the victims to reach her, and I realized that she wore the golden jewel around her neck, just as Anna had the night before. The weakness was me and my stone heart, and I swallowed a curse, irritated that the dreams here seemed fixated on exposing my secret.

Phelan appeared, trailing his brother. “What are you doing, Lee?”