Back in the bedroom, I spot Saengo at the edge of her bed, expression guarded as she fingers the silk sleeves of the gown set out for her.

“Some guests who arrive here underestimate the journey through the Dead Wood,” the maid continues. “Sometimes, in order to make the return journey more quickly, they abandon whatever they’d brought with them.”

Still, the former owner would have been someone of great means to discard spidersilk.

With a glance at Saengo, I say, “Saengo and I can manage from here. Thank you so much.”

The woman lifts one eyebrow but doesn’t argue. She bobs a curtsy and leaves, shutting the door gently after her. I turn to Saengo, not even sure what to say. Her misery is my doing, and I don’t know how to fix it other than to continue in my bargain with Ronin.

A beat before the silence between us grows awkward, Saengo pastes a smile on her face and rises from the bed. “These really are beautiful. My father promised me a spidersilk gown for my wedding one day. I guess that’s unlikely now.”

“Saengo,” I begin, but she cuts me off.

“I like seeing how happy you get over pretty things.” She crosses the room to the gown on my bed. “Come on. I’ll help you try it on.”

Reluctantly, I tug off my nightgown. Without the layers common in Evewynian fashion, dressing is a much quicker affair.

As she helps me into the gown’s thin chemise, I say, “Do you think it was a Spinner back in that garden maze?”

The evidence all around the castle makes it plain that there are Spinners within the grounds. Although that’s likely what I heard last night, the press of that strange power does give me pause. The mere memory of it is like a tug at my navel, urging me to brush away Saengo’s hands and rush back to the garden. It takes more effort than it should to force my thoughts away from that nameless sensation.

“I should like to see a Spinner.” Saengo tilts her head thoughtfully. She holds out the gown for me to slip my arms through.

“I don’t. After the sorts of things Kendara made me hunt, I’d rather not meet any eight-legged creatures larger than a drake in shadowy garden mazes.”

Saengo tucks one side of the sleek fabric beneath the other, securing the bodice with tiny pearl buttons. I’ve never worn anything so exquisite in my life. The only gown I possess—pale-pink satin robes Saengo gifted me when we graduated from the Prince’s Company—sits at the bottom of my trunk in the barracks.