Our true names ring in the room as he leaves, the only remaining fragments of what we’ve been through together. The last I see of him is his yellow-tufted tail disappearing through the doorway.

I pull on the cape, and Varia motions for me to follow her. She stops in front of an oil lantern in her bathroom; to my utter shock, she tilts it forward, and the sound of something clunking into place resounds. A dark trapdoor opens in the slate tiles of the floor, just big enough to let one person through at a time. The tightness of the secret passage reminds me of the one I found in Y’shennria’s manor. Varia wastes no time in climbing down the ladder on the side, and I follow.

“Is this Lord Y’shennria’s handiwork, by any chance?” I ask.

“Indeed. Father thought it was so clever, he had Lord Y’shennria build one in each apartment of the Serpent Ward. They all lead to various parts of the city—mine is the only one that leads outside the wall, and only the royal family knows about it.”

Belatedly, I realize these passages must be how Lucien escapes the palace and slips into the common quarter as Whisper. Thorns curl around my unheart at the thought of him. I’m never going to see him again, am I? My hands start to shake at the thought. The Bone Tree. I let the sight of it in my memory—so lonely on top of the mountain—grow huge and consume the idea of Lucien whole.

The two of us hit the bottom of the trapdoor’s shaft, and Varia leads me along a thin tunnel barely wide enough for my shoulders. To illuminate it, she lights her wooden finger with fire, and I follow the dancing flame through the darkness. The crown princess is so close to me, I can practically hear my heart beating in the bag beneath her cape.

“Do the witches know about the Bone Tree?” I ask.

“Only the High Witches,” she answers. “And they think it’s better to leave it alone.”

“I know it might be a little late to propose this, but they could be onto something.”

Varia gives a withering scoff and continues forward. My voice is the only thing that breaks our silence.

“Lucien won’t forgive you, you know.”

She doesn’t speak, but her footsteps start moving quicker down the tunnel.

“He told me I’m his enemy now. Does that mean you are, too?”

This, and only this, makes her pause. She whirls on me, the firelight illuminating her black glass eyes. She gazes at me steadily and then turns back around and starts walking at a blazing speed, her words ringing among stone.

“I’ve spent five years preparing myself to be his enemy.”

…