“My flesh will feed its furnace,” Varia murmurs again, a fragment of the quote rearranged just so. The carriage jostles us in the uneasy silence.

“The banquet tonight is to celebrate my return.” Varia’s voice returns loud again. “Fione will be there. And Lucien. His bodyguard, too, I presume.”

My fear of the valkerax is buried by a sudden wave of anxiety. They all know now just how terrible I am. I can’t possibly face them.

i told you they would turn on us, the hunger taunts.

“I had your measurements taken while you were unconscious on the couch,” Varia says lightly. “And my personal tailor refitted several of my old garments for you. I think you’ll like them.”

A dress means only one thing in Vetris.

“As much as I enjoy a beautiful gown, I’m not going—”

“You don’t have to,” she interrupts me. “I’m not like the other witches, Zera. I’m not tyrannical. You’ve agreed to help me find the Bone Tree, so you can do precisely as you please. The guards have been informed, the court has been lied to—you’re simply a witness to the terrible murder of Gavik and his men. No one knows you’re Heartless except Father and me, and Lucien and his bodyguard. I’ll tell Fione tonight, though I’m sure she’s guessed as much by now, if Lucien hasn’t told her himself.”

It’s a small, cold relief. I couldn’t care less if the noble court knows what I am. They could throw stones and spears all they wanted, if only I could trade their ignorance for my friends’ knowledge.

were you ever really friends? The hunger cackles.

My unheart splits in half with pain. Were we ever really friends, if I lied to them about who I was the entire time? How can you be friends with someone who isn’t who they say they are?

I look out at the buildings of the city, scrying frantically for something to distract myself with. Gavik. If Varia’s made sure everyone thinks Gavik was murdered, he can’t be in the palace. But neither can he be far. He must be hiding in the city somewhere, doing Varia’s bidding in the shadows.

The princess tilts her head, her sheet of black hair glimmering in the oil light of the passing lampposts. “All I’m saying is you might want to be present tonight. There’s going to be a rather special announcement at the banquet that I think you’ll want to hear.”