Stella and Sam were their youngest and latest Leviathan recruits, hand-picked by Claude for a specific project that he was planning. When they’d first arrived, Sam had been a quiet boy, keen to be useful. His older sister was similarly dedicated to pleasing people. As it turned out, the behaviour had been unreliable; they’d been playing an ambitious game – to become the Master’s favourites. If Ingrid didn’t watch her step, they’d succeed. She used to think they were little mice, not worth paying any attention to, but now she realized they were rats.

Sam tutted, his hazel eyes locking on to Ingrid’s. ‘Useless Julius and insignificant Ingrid.’

Stella chimed in. ‘It’s true because it rhymes.’

Ingrid could kill them both; she knew she could. They’d never finished their Partizan training. In fact, they’d most likely have never been allowed to graduate – they were too sloppy. This perhaps explained why they’d joined Leviathan, knowing it was their best and only option to rise to the top.

‘It doesn’t rhyme, you little idiot,’ Ingrid spat, turning to the kitchen.

‘Doesn’t mean it’s not true!’ Stella called after, the two of them falling into pace just behind her. ‘Can’t you take a joke?’

Ingrid didn’t reply.

‘Where did you go the other day?’ Sam asked, his nose twitching like he’d picked up a curious scent. ‘You were missing for nearly five days.’

Ingrid froze for just a second at the kitchen doorway. She’d been careful to cover her tracks when she’d gone to Rosewood Hall to seek her revenge on the princess and her Partizan. She’d burned the letters they were going to use to expose the Maravish royal family, along with any evidence of her flights or travel. The only mistakes she’d made were the injury she’d accidentally inflicted on Jamie, not to mention the fact that she’d nearly got herself caught. All because that stupid spoiled princess had evaded her, again. If they found out any of this and told the Master, especially after she’d been given strict orders not to go anywhere near Jamie, he would never forgive her.

‘I needed some time away.’ She kept her answer vague as she made her way into the cold kitchen. ‘To repent.’

‘Probably for the best.’ To Ingrid’s irritation, the siblings were still following. ‘After how you disappointed the Master in Tokyo.’

Ignoring them as best she could, Ingrid began fixing two plates of food.

‘Good thing the Master finally realized you shouldn’t be allowed near the Partizan he wants.’

‘Did no one tell you they don’t allow rats in the kitchen?’ Ingrid said with a scowl, grabbing some fruit and two caramel pudding cups from the storeroom.