‘Haru is so much better for the job, don’t you agree?’ Stella’s voice was like acid on her skin. ‘Apparently he’s already got the little princess in tow, and Jamie adores him.’

Perfect Haru. When Ingrid thought of him, every hair on her body stood on end. Everything about him was fake. ‘Shut up,’ she growled in warning.

‘Are you disagreeing with the Master’s choice?’

‘Don’t you two have something you should be doing?’

‘Nope.’ Stella shrugged, checking her fingernails. ‘We’re getting ready for school.’

‘What?’

‘We’re going to school,’ Sam replied.

‘St Agnus’s in Maradova. We start next week.’ They both turned to watch her reaction now. ‘Didn’t the Master tell you?’

Ingrid picked up the tray of food and started back to Julius’s room, her neck bristling at the sound of Stella and Sam bursting into laughter again behind her.

‘Oh, Crow!’ Sam called after her, rushing to the doorway. ‘Completely forgot, the Master wanted us to tell you something.’

Ingrid froze, itching to hear from Claude, despite what felt like an eternity of being in his bad graces. She needed to know she could still be useful to him, that he still trusted her.

‘He says, if Haru continues as he is, the Maravish Partizan will definitely see our side, with no need to use the Hamelin Formula on him … yet.’ Stella and Sam looked at each other. ‘He wants you to – how did he phrase it? – stay away from Jamie should he choose to join us.’

Ingrid’s fingers curled round the cold metal tray, a million furious thoughts racing through her head. ‘Thank you.’ Then she marched off.

By the time she reached Julius’s room and shut the door behind her, her whole body was shaking. You just have to wait, she told herself. Everything was messy right now because they were getting close to the final stages of their plan. Once it was executed, she’d get what she’d been promised. Everything would finally be right in the world and she would be part of that.

‘What’s wrong?’ Julius asked, his eyes fluttering open slowly.

Ingrid turned to him, her train of thought coming abruptly to an end. It was like being thrown off a horse, landing her back in Rose Wood, the choking scent of roses and lavender filling her nose while thorns scratched her ankles and tree roots tripped her. She was back by the giant oak tree, her fingers tightening over golden curls, when the princess of Maradova had escaped her grasp by slicing through her own hair. Why did that image keep coming back to her? Why couldn’t she escape it?

‘The Maravish royal family,’ Ingrid growled. ‘That’s what’s wrong.’

9

Summer had woven a garland round Rosewood, the blooming flowers filling the air with heady scent. Walking alone to the library, Lottie watched as the shadows of lone clouds glided over the path.